#and when i tried taking medicine before work i dont think i swallowed one right and the powder in it kinda came back up?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peralta-guaranteed · 3 years ago

Note

good trope or bad trope: one of them waking up from surgery or something and being so high on drugs they forget they're together and the other has to explain it

good trope GOOD trope good trope! and this was probably just a question but I couldn't resiiiist

-*-

It's kind of sad to think about the fact that Amy is already used to monitors beeping in a cold hospital room around her squad and, mostly, around her partner. They've been in so many horrible situations, so many little moments where she's had to worry about them, that today she's almost glad she doesn't have to. Jake's surgery had neither been scheduled nor planned, and there had been a whole lot of panic leading up to it when she drove him to the hospital wincing in pain, his arms clutched around his lower stomach, but the doctor's told her they came in early enough for it to be a more routine procedure rather than an emergency. And now his appendix was out, and he would be hurting and healing for a while, but the trepidation about that is nowhere close to the fear she's used to feeling while sitting in these uncomfortable hospital chairs, wondering when the person in the bed next to her would wake up. The last time she'd been in this position, Rosa was hooked up to so many many more machines, and she looked like a bad wax figurine of herself, all pale and stiff.

Jake looks almost fine, no breathing mask or tube down his nostril, just a little beeping heart monitor and some infusion in his arm. The nurse told her he'd be waking up soon when she lead her into the room, and that they could probably go home later that evening already.

(She also told her that he'd been one of the more amusing patients she'd had under anesthesia, which was not a surprise, and that he'd been asking for her every time he groggily opened his eyes for just a few seconds, which was not a surprise either.)

He blinks awake slowly, eyes darting around the room as if to figure out where he is, before they land on her and stay stuck, his forehead creasing in confusion for a second before he grins.

"Heyyyy, it'sa Santiago!" He tries in a croaky voice, and Amy reaches for the cup of ice water the nurse brought in to hand it to him. He's shaky, but he can handle it alone, she notes almost subconsciously - she remembers enough moments where she's had to feed him ice chips instead because he could barely move his arms.

"Hey." She answers with a softer smile as he gulps down almost the whole cup - considering he still hates water, he must really need it. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, just splendid, thanks." He quips before trying to sit up more and wincing, the stitches in his stomach upset. "What the hell did I do this time to end up here?"

"What?"

"I mean, I don't remember a chase or a fight, but it sure feels like I took a knife to the stomach or something?"

They look at each other, equally confused, before Amy shakes her head.

"You dont remember-? It wasn't a work thing, Jake, your appendix almost burst."

"Ah dang. That's not even a cool story for a new scar." He sighs as he leans back a bit against the pillow and carefully palms the space where she knows the skin is going to be light pink and rougher than usual from now on. "Sorry they made you wait around for my stupid ass to recover, or is the squad at least taking turns?"

She stares at him, her mind racing, and it seems to make him nervous. He's still trying to go for that usual grin, but his eyes are darting around, sticking to parts of her without looking directly into her eyes, and she can see he's getting fidgety. Mixing that with what he's saying, and the way he's saying it - his voice is different, somehow, more - guarded, or distant, it's hard to explain, but she only remembers it from a long time ago - makes her suddenly realise.

He's been given some very heavy duty painkillers and narcotics, she hears the nurse's voice in her head, so he might be disoriented or confused for quite a while. It shows differently in lots of people, so I can't tell you what to expect, but he'll be back to normal once it passes through his system.

He doesn't remember, she thinks. He doesn't remember... a lot.

"Jake." She gets his nervous attention back, trying to school her voice into something calm and friendly, instead of the equally nervous and somewhat excited giggle she wants to let out so bad. "I think you're still working through your medication. Can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?"

He leans back again and stares at the ceiling, and it's hard to read the emotions on his face.

"Just... regular work stuff, to be honest. Nothing big."

"Okay, then what is the last big thing you can think of?"

"Uh." He swallows, and Amy refills his water cup, but he doesn't take it. "I, uh, I remember Hoytsman kidnapping me." He laughs a short laugh, obviously trying to make it seem lighter than it ever was, but that's not the only reason Amy feels her heart jump.

His mind is stuck before their relationship. After Sofia left him. He thinks he's woken up after being injured at work, and there's no one there waiting for him except for a work partner who he's been trying so hard to pretend he doesn't like anymore, and for whom he obviously has to play the "I'm okay!" role still.

"Wow. Uh. Okay." She babbles, trying to find a way to be gentle and not confuse him any more. "Then, uh, I guess, well, your medication should pass soon, I think, and you'll remember more, so don't worry-"

"Amy." He's staring at her when she finally looks up, and notes her shorter hair, her far more comfortable outfit than the pantsuits he sees her wear at work, and even while high on drugs it's not that hard for him to put two and two together. "How much am I missing?"

"Quite a lot." She finally admits, but drops her look down into her lap, to her folded hands, and she unconsciously covers her wedding ring before he can see it. "A few years."

"Years?!" He squeals while leaning forward and then groans, because that has definitely upset his wound.

"It's okay, the nurse said it would happen." She quickly tries to calm him. "It's - you'll remember when the anaesthetic passes properly, so it's alright."

"Alright, yeah." He nods and finally settles into the pillow again, as silence envelops them for a few awkward moments, in which Amy's mind races through all the things he's missing right now.

"Okay." He interrupts her sad little mental storybook of their life's drama. "Let's play a game until then, huh? I call it 'Shock&Tell'."

"Jake-"

"It's easy, you'll get the rules. Basically, you tell me stuff I don't know right now and see how shocked you can get me."

"That's not funny-"

"Oh, I think it is. I know how much you like to have me speechless." He grins at her, and she can't resist.

"Title of your sex tape."

"Amy Santiago!" He gasps with a laugh, but there's hesitation in his eyes, and she remembers they weren't exactly at a flirting stage back where he is right now. "For that alone, you have to play a round with me."

"I can't think of anything shocking at the moment." She lies, and he sees right through her.

"Okay, then tell me the worst thing you think happens to me in those years, and the best. From your opinion."

She sighs and stares at her hands again, but she knows he won't let up - he's not gotten any less obnoxious from back then to now.

"Alright. The worst thing. You went to jail." She states, matter of fact, and watches his eyes practically bulge out of his head.

"Holy shi- WhAT?! Like, for a crime? Or-what-did I-what?!"

"You were innocent!" She says as fast as she can, and watches him deflate only a little.

"I sure fucking hope so! But still, what- how- why- ?"

"You and Rosa were framed by a criminally corrupt cop. It took us a few months to get evidence against her and have her sentenced instead."

"A few months." He whispers and stares at his hands, scrunching up the blanket he's wrapped in.

"You weren't alone." Her voice is soft and calm now, seeing him in such a state of unrest, and it takes all she has not to pull him into a hug - it'd probably both confuse and actually hurt him right now, given the stitches. "I mean, you were alone in prison, but we- the squad - we were all fighting for you and Rosa, and Charles and I visited you, and we- I- we never gave up on you."

He smiles, soft and a little broken, but he nods, as if that was something he'd always expect.

"Okay, now the best thing. Because lemme tell you, Santiago, you have to make up for that suckerpunch."

She smiles much wider now, almost grins as she leans forward to finally reach for his hand, entangling their fingers (to which he goes along almost automatically) and feeling her rings clink against the one on his. Jake's eyes are frozen on her hand in his, where he can see a shiny wedding band over what is clearly his Nana's old engagement ring, and he's barely breathing.

"Oh my god." He whispers a moment later, squeezing her hand almost painfully tight as he looks at her again, and she's still smiling.

"We're married?"

"Yeah."

"To- to each other?"

"Yeah, you doofus." She laughs.

"I'm- I'm your husband." He whispers again. "Even thought I went to jail?!"

"Well", she still laughs softly at the absolute shine in his eyes, the awe on his face. "You proposed after that. But I would've married you before, anyway." I would've married you before a lot of things you don't remember, she thinks but doesn't dare say, for fear he'll ask about those other things.

"You're my wife." He says, still stunned, and she nods. "We're married."

She nods again, and watches as the confused awe on his face turns into an almost relieved joy, and his bottom lip trembles as tears start rolling down his cheeks.

"Jake..." She whispers in turn now, her free hand (that is not currently being gripped by both of his) cupping his face and wiping away some of the tears that keep flowing.

"You're happy?" He asks with trepidation in his voice, and Amy wonders if the emotional rollercoaster is another side-effect of his medicine or just his lowered inhibitions. "I'm a good husband?"

"I couldn't wish for a better husband. You make me very happy." She's almost close to tears now herself. "I love you so much."

He gasps at that, and pulls her still gripped hand up to his face, pulling her closer to him in the process.

"I love you, Amy." is his answer, and she realises he means it, even with all the things he doesn't remember, all the things he doesn't know yet. "I love you so much. I can't believe I get to marry you."

His tears have calmed down a little by now, and she fixes her awkward pose of leaning forward and having both arms reach for his face by climbing up onto the bed with him, as he lowers their hands and looks at her with stars in his eyes and so much love on his face, she can't resist to pass the last few inches and kiss him.

His eyes are still closed when she pulls back and touches her forehead to his, and he's whispering again.

"Wow."

"Well, that's certainly an appreciated reaction." She giggles.

"Don't tell me I don't react like that every time you kiss me, because there's no way I'll believe that."

"Yeah." She smiles again as he opens his eyes and smiles back. "Yeah, you kinda do."

And just to prove it, she kisses him again.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet

102 notes · View notes

arthurflecksgirl · 4 years ago

Note

Hellooo, me again, I'm sorry to keep pestering ^--^ I was wondering if you would be willing to write a fic where Arthur's s/o is on doctor-prescribed bed rest for whatever reason and Arthur wants to take care of them (making them food/running to the store for them/comforting them through pain)? I have chronic but severe pain that makes me need to rest a lot and the idea of Arthur actually WANTING to take care of someone makes me ^--^

Heyyyyy Sabrina :) Thank you soooo sooo much for your request and why on earth would you ever apologize for making a request ? OMG. I appreciate your messages and asks so much! This is the result and I really really hope you like it.

Arthur taking care of you during “this time of the month”

Your hand reached out for the soft skin of Arthurs arm. You needed it wrapped around you tight. So tight it would ease the pain a bit. Arthurs skin on yours always eased the pain. The warmth of his body was the best medicine you could think of. It was this time of the month again when your body will torture you with serveral pain and cramps until you got too weak and tired to even go out of bed. Waking up from bad pains in your lower belly made you desperately search for Arthur under the sheets. Your eyes still closed, trying to breathe through the pain. "Arthur?" you whispered in the dark of the bedroom. The only thing your hand reached was Arthurs light blue pillow, still warm from him sleeping on it. You rolled up to his side of the bed and pressed your face into his pillow. You loved how his warmth was still holding on to the fabric. Or was it the farbric holding on to his warmth? Trying to make him stay? To make the remains of his body heath a ghost, lingering on the pillows and sheets? To proof that he just left some minutes ago? That he will be right back because this was his save place. Right here with you. Where the warmth of your body mixes with his. To become one bundle of comfort.

You rubbed your face into it. There was not just the warmth that remained but teh smell of his hair. A deep breath in made you feel like you just buried your face into the crook of his neck, except the sensation of his curls tickeling your nose was missing.

"Arthur?" you called out his name like a prayer. Like he would be right there when you call for him. And he was.

"Y/N? Hey....Good morning, sweetheart!"

"Arthur, I`m in so much pain..." you whimpered, while you abdomen felt like someone tried to tear it apart.

Arthur immediately got up on the ebd to cuddle you from behind "Oh no! Whats wrong?" "Those horrible cramps again. I can barely move...."

Arthur pulled you closer to his naked chest. He was still in his Pjs. "Oh baby. Remember what the doctor said. You need to rest and stay in bed when this happens. Did you already took some pain killers by now?"

You shook your head "No, it just started. But I feel that its getting bad".

Arthur hurried, telling you that he will be right back.

He seemed a bit overwhelmed by this. He never had a girlfriend before and this was new to him. You have been together for some months now and he realized that what you were going through each month wasnt fun. He was always getting a bit nervous when he saw you struggeling. Worried about if he was doing everything right to help you with the pain, which was teh sweetest thing to wittness. Your ex boyfriend never payed any attention to this kind of struggle. But Arthur took it very seriously. He couldnt stand it to see you in this condition. So he tried to hide the fact that he felt a little helpless.

Arthur came back with some pain killers and a glass of water. "Here, take these. These are the ones the doctor perscripted you last time we visited him". He gently stoke the back of your head as you swallowed them down with a sip of water. "Thank you, Arthur. I can barely stand up...."

"Then dont. Just stay in bed and rest, okay? I can get anything for you if you need something. Just let me know."

You nodded before you fell back into the pillow. His one. The one that smelled like home and comfort. You heavily breathed into it. Trying to concentrate on relaxing but it seemed impossible. "The pills will ease the pan soon" . He had no idea that his soothing voice was much of a beter helper.

You body twitched.

"Oh darling. Is it that bad?" Arthurs hand reached under your shirt to caress your belly as you curled yourself up into a ball. His fingers tenderly moving in circles while you just tried to breathe calmly.

"It is.....can you.....please just....lie here with me and wrap your arms around me? " You just had to feel him close to you now. Otherwise you would fall apart.

"Y/N....what a question. Sure. But first I gotta call my boss and tell him that I will stay away from work today."

"What? Arthur but....you cant do that. You know that Hoyt is going to be pissed."

"So what?" Arhur stood up to grab the phone "I dont care. I won`t leave you alone in this condition. I will stay right here with you and make sure you have anything you need."

As soon as Hoyt was on the phone, he told him he was on some new meds and they made him so sick to the stomach its impossible for him to leave his bed today. it was not possible for you to make out what Hoyts answer was like, but Arthur hung up the phone, rolling his eyes.

"He was mad, wasnt he?" you asked, trying to drink some water without throwing up.

"Forget about him. He will calm down. He`s just being Hoyt. One of my workmates can jum in for me today. " He crawled back on the bed, looking so lovable in his pajamas and messy morning hair.

"The kids will miss their cute Carnival. They need him."

"You need me more"

"Good point!" you replied, pulling him closer.

"Carnival can show you a lil dance later if you want. He`ll make anything to make you forget the pain."

You smiled "I know he would."

Arthur spooned you from behind so he`s got his hands free to caress your belly "Where does it hurt the most?" he asked. His fingers doing their magic. Sometimes you swore he had healing hands.

"Everywhere....on the inside, you know?"

"I wish I could crawl right into you and ease the pain from inside".

You angled your head to kiss him on the lips.Just to get a taste of him.

"I think I gotta go to the bathroom. I havent even brushed my teeth since I woke up.

"I dont care. Stay here. "

The tip of Arthurs nose traveled up and down your neck.

"Arthur?"

"Huh?"

"Can I put on your brown cardigan? I think it might help me calming down until the meds show results".

Arthur bend forwards to grab his worn out cardigan which was lying on the floor. He asked you to sit up and helped you to get in it. A smile was crossing his face. This meant much to him. Knowing that his old clothes gave you comfort.

"Better?" he asked.

"A lot, Arthur. Thank you."

"Is there anything I can do for you? A tea? A hot watter bottle? Please let me know." The way Arthur wanted to take care of you filled your heart with so much love. He wasnt doing this because he had to ,but because he wanted to. It meant something to him, to have someone to take care of. Someone who appreciated him being there and caring. Helping other people with feeling better had the same effect on him than making people smile by telling jokes. It filled his heavy heart with joy and made it lighter.

Arthur wanted other people to need him. Especially the ones close to him. He loved to be needed and wanted in any way. He never thought his hands would help someone feeling better. He never thought his voice would be heard by someone who loved the sound of it. All his life Arthur wished for someone to crave him. To long for his presence. And now he was able to help you. Just by being here. Being able to help made him feel important to someone.

But this wasnt just about him. he loved you with all his senses and seeing you being in pain was unbearable for him. He tried to get rid of the feeling of being helpless and worried by asking you what else he could do for you.

"Um...maybe both?" you giggled, realizing that the pain has gottan at least a little bit better for now. Sure of the fact that it wasnt because of the meds but because of him.

"Alright. So a tea and a hot watter bottle " he nodded, running his fingers through his curly hair "Anything else? Like....do you think you can eat something? Or....?"

"Um....I`m not sure. I´m sick to the stomach...."

Arthur stroke your cheek. He knew this feeling too well.

"The only thing I can think of are these small pretzels ....."

Arthur laughed out loud as he lit himself a cig "You really want pretzels right now?"

"Yeah...." now you had to laugh,too. Almost forgetting about the pain for a moment.

Arthur inhaled the smoke, the cig tugged between his mischievous smirk. "One moment, honey". He walked to the kitchen, into the bathroom and came back with a hot water bottle and a hot cup of tea. He placed the water bottle on your belly "I hope this will help you relax. We dont have any pretzles anymore I`m afraid. I ate the last one the other morning.I`m sorry".

"Oh Artie, dont ever be sorry for eating. I`m so happy everytime I watch you eat something. Arthur put his shoes and hoodie on "You knwo what? There is this store just two blocks away and they sell those things. I will go get some for you okay? I`ll be right back!"

"Oh you really dont have to...."

"I willl hurry up, I promoise!"

"I only let you go when you promise me you will eat one,too."

Arthur leaned in to give you a sloppy kiss on teh forehead. He smelled like cigarettes. "I promise".

When Arthur was out the door you buried yourself in his pillow again. Thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like him on your side and how little the others knew about him.

Arthur met many people in his life, especially while working. He was always meeting them on birthday partys, hospitals and other events. But they never really got in touch with him. What a pity. To them he was eighter just the party clown or the mysterious, shy man in the background. They had no idea what they missed out on.

You were lucky enough to know him. To know what a wonderful lover he was. And it was obvious that Arthur would be an amazing friend if people would just give him a chance and try to take a closer look. A look behind the laughter that they tought was weird or creepy.

You felt the heath of the water bottle calming your muscles but it didnt had the same magical effect as Arthurs body heath. A deep sigh escaped your lips.

Maybe it wasnt just luck. Maybe it was because you saw him. His true self. And now his hands belonged to you. The gentleness of his touch, the softness of his skin, the warmth of his body at night, his lips, his dreams and hopes and darkest fears. It was all yours now and you embraced it with everything that was you.

It didnt took long until you`ve heard the keys in the lock. Which was a relief because you already felt the pain getting worse after he was gone for 5 minutes.

"I`m back with the pretzels!" his voice sounded like a humm as he threw a whole bag of it on the bed and got rid of his hoodie and shoes.

"Arthur. You forgot to change your pants." you chuckled.

He looked downon himself, realizing that he was leaving the house in his PJs "Oh!" he shrugged "Too late now I guess". He checked his hair like he always did when he got out of his hoodie.

"You`ve been okay?"

"Yeah"

Arthur opened the brown paper bag and fed you one of the pretzels. Just one bite and another. You had to go real slow to not get sick. Now you knew how Arthur felt about eating every day.

"Thank you Artie. You`re the best boyfriend a girl can wish for!"

His cheeks turned pink as you also fed him one and he bit off a small piece.

"You also gotta eat something, Arthur"

"Yeah but you too" he added as both of you kept feeding each other the smallest pieces.

After there were two less pretzels in the bag, you kissed each other on the mouth and layed down again. His naked toes playfully touching the back of your foot.

Another cramp again.

"You`re muscles are so tense" Arthur noticed. C`mon. Lets see how i can help."

He disappeared under the green blanket and rolled up the cardigan just enough to place some soft kisses on your lower belly.

"Does it help?" he whispered between the open mouth kisses.

"Oh yeah....a lot!" you breathed through the pain, which was getting better with every touch of Arthurs lips.

"I could do this forever" he added "I can taste the love you hold for me. Its right there....on the surface of your skin. Its right there waiting for me to taste it .... Does that sound crazy?"

You couldnt see his face, because he was covered with the sheets but you knew he was making a serious face asking you this.

"Not at all, Arthur. It sounds wonderful. "

Arthur compleately crawled under the blanket now and positioned himself over you. Supporting himself with his elbows so you didnt had to carry the weight of his body on your aching belly.

"I love you so much" he muttered into your messy hair.

"Dito!" you replied.

"Now get some sleep, baby. I`ll be right here when you wake up...Or....maybe Carnival will take my place to cheer you up, who knows?"

You smiled right before you drifted into a painless sleep. Dreaming of the most caring clown with the biggest green wig and the purest heart imaginable.

#joker #joaquinphoenix #arthur fleck #arthurfleck #dc #joker movie #joker 2019 #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #joker imagine #joker fanfiction #arthur fleck fanfiction #arthur fleck fanfic #joker fanfic #artgur fleck x reader #joker x reader #artgur fleck x you #joker x you

22 notes · View notes

entropychanges · 4 years ago

Text

Tell me what you’ll do, please

So, Michael, dripping like a wet mop on the restaurant’s tile floor, stood silently as he looked between the sister of the girl whose murder he covered up only two months ago, and his lover who would rather be sent off to war than be with him. Great. He swallowed, figuring he may as well break the silence.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if-”

“The kitchen is closed,” Liz interrupted, looking him up and down before saying, “but you can stay until the storm lets up.”

Or, in which Michael gets caught out in the rain while sleeping in his truck, and ends up taking shelter in the last place he wants to be.

also on ao3

title (from phoebe bridger's demi moore) precedes the lyric "I dont wanna be alone" which is kind of a central theme in Michael's mindset in this fic

warnings for mention of Michael's injury, very brief and vague mention of toolshed incident near the end, lots of talk about rosa's death and liz's mourning, michael has self worth issues, michael and alex say mean things to each other bc they’re sad and scared and just like a lot of angst

(3054 words)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Michael woke from his drunken nap, he sobered up immediately at the feeling of his blankets being drenched and the sky being far too dark for his liking.

He knew it was going to rain that night, and had even felt it in the joints of his mangled hand. What he didn’t predict, however, was that he was going to sleep for a few more hours than he intended, waking up in the middle of a storm rather than to the late afternoon desert sun.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he hissed, scrambling out of his truck bed and attempting to gather his linens. As he piled the soaked pillows and blankets he realized that he’d stupidly kept his bag of clothes beside him as he slept, leaving him with nothing dry to change into. He shoved his belongings into a sopping pile on his passenger seat before rushing to the other side of the truck cab and turning on the ignition with shaking hands.

Safe from the weather outside, Michael cranked up the heater and stripped off his shirt, huddling against himself for warmth. He ran his fingers through his curls in an effort to squeeze the water out, but to no avail. He sat like this, shivering and pathetic, for about 20 minutes before deciding that he needed a plan B. He didn’t have enough gas to use his heater for any extended period of time, and he wouldn’t have enough money for a refill until Sanders paid him for his work that week.

So, he decided to head into town to see if he could find somewhere that would let him stay inside for the duration of the storm without expecting a dime out of him. Normally he would try the library, but that closed at 8 and according to the clock on his radio, it was around 11 pm. Damn it. Hardly anything in this sleepy town was open past 10 on a weeknight other than the bars, and the storm wasn’t helping his chances.

Monsoon season was probably the most detrimental time for his beloved old Chevy that he called home, and tonight was no exception. He could hardly see through his windshield with the mix of dust and rain smattered across it, the high-velocity winds forcing his wipers to barely keep up. He was able to see enough to drive, though, as well as to recognize the signs on the shops and restaurants. They were almost all closed, as he’d suspected, except for one - the Crashdown still had its lights on and as he pulled into a parking space in front of it, he could see two figures inside. Liz Ortecho was wiping the counter as she spoke to the person in front of her, whose back was turned to Michael.

Only a few months ago, Michael would be too embarrassed to walk into the Crashdown at half-past 11 looking like a drowned rat and ask for a favor from his academic competitor. Now, though, Liz was going through her own living hell, which Michael felt partially responsible for, and had no room in her life to pity some punkass kid that lived in his truck. So, he swallowed his guilt and pride and shame and made his way out of his car and into the pouring rain. Without giving himself a chance to rethink this decision, he threw open the diner’s door, bringing attention to himself far too dramatically.

And, well, shit. Maybe he would’ve been better off using his fake id to spend his night with the racist alcoholics at the Wild Pony.

The first thing he noticed was that Liz looked rough. She clearly hadn’t been sleeping, as her eye bags were dark and evident, and her skin was paler than usual. She stood stock still at his cinematic entrance, her face full of annoyance and exhaustion. She no longer looked like the nerdy girl-next-door that Max had a crush on. She looked older than her age, and, in a sense, she was. She was going through more sadness than most had in their entire lifetimes, and that thought sent a spike of pain in Michael’s chest.

It reminded him of that selfish anger he’d been repressing since that night; anger at Isobel for killing the girls, anger at himself and Max for covering it up, anger at whatever entities left the three of them on this planet in the first place. He usually tried to shove those thoughts down before they ate away at him, but that was impossible when the consequence of their actions was quite literally staring himself in the face.

He glanced at the figure sitting on the stool across from Liz and his stomach dropped. Of course, it just had to be the very person Michael had been avoiding for the past two weeks.

He watched as Alex’s face morphed from confusion, to brief concern, and finally an annoyance that rivaled Liz’s. The last thing Michael wanted was to relive the fight they’d had after Alex told him he was enlisting in the air force.

Alex called Michael a violent alcoholic that was wasting his life.

Michael compared him to every birth and foster parent who had abandoned him.

Alex said Michael was no better than his abusive father.

Michael said that was funny seeing as he was following in his daddy’s footsteps.

It wasn’t pleasant.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure if-”

“The kitchen is closed,” Liz interrupted, looking him up and down before saying, “but you can stay until the storm lets up.”

Michael nodded, flinging water from his hair. He sat in the nearest booth, looking at his hands. He didn’t exactly have a plan for what he’d do if someone were to let him in. Maybe he could sleep? He didn’t think Liz would appreciate having to wake him up to kick him out once the rain stopped, but making conversation didn’t seem like much of an option.

When he looked back over to see that Liz had bent down to clean below the counter, Alex was still staring at him. Michael glanced back down at his hands, but it was too late. Alex approached the booth and stood over him.

“Hey, Alex.”

“What happened?”

“I fell asleep and when I woke up it was raining and all my shit was wet,” he said, still looking down.

Alex furrowed his brows. “It started raining around 8.”

“I guess I went to bed early.”

“Is that your way of saying you passed out drunk?”

Michael raised his gaze to glare at Alex. Alex glared right back.

“Can we not do this right now?”

Alex huffed a sigh and sat across from him. Michael leaned back and turned his head, watching the downpour out the window. They sat in silence for a minute until Alex spoke up.

“You need to change your splint.”

For someone that “wouldn’t be Michael’s medicine”, Alex sure liked to act like his doctor. But, he wasn’t wrong. Michael’s splint was soaked, making it functionally useless.

“I have some gauze in the truck, I’ll fix it later,” he replied, still staring at the rain.

“Just grab it now, I’ll help you do it.”

Michael turned back to Alex. “What? No, I-”

Alex stood up. “Get the gauze and I’ll meet you upstairs.”

As Alex turned away, presumably to ask Liz if she was cool with him bringing the personified version of a stray dog found in the gutter up into the small apartment she shared with her grieving father, Michael conceded and ran back to his truck to grab the gauze. He could never really say no to Alex. He rushed back in, covering the gauze with his body to prevent any rain damage and, with a quick “bathroom’s on the right” from Liz, he ran up the stairs to meet Alex in the tiny restroom that Liz used to share with Rosa. Used to. Michael shuddered at the thought. He was too sober for this long night.

Except, Alex wasn’t in the restroom. He was nowhere to be found. Regardless, Michael closed the door gently and began peeling the gauze off his hand, the feeling not dissimilar to applying a strip of wet paper-mâché to a surface. He winced at the pain, which he’d been ignoring until then, and wished he had some acetone to take the edge off.

He glanced at the medicine cabinet. Maybe…He opened the cabinet and there it was, half a bottle of kroger brand nail polish. Jackpot. Once he finished his second swig, the door handle started twisting. Shit. He used his telekinesis to put the bottle back in the cabinet and close the door, all while rinsing his mouth to cover the evidence. He didn’t want to think about what Alex’s reaction would be to finding him drinking Liz’s nail polish remover straight out of the bottle. “Seriously, Guerin? Alcohol not enough of a buzz for you anymore?”. Alex always called him “Guerin” when he was disappointed or mad at him. Lately, that seemed to be more often than not.

Alex peeked his head in slowly, as if to give Michael privacy, which was frankly adorable, seeing as how many times they’d seen each other at least partially nude. When he saw that Michael was decent, he opened the door completely, revealing that he was carrying a pile of clothes and towels.

“Here, change into these,” Alex commanded, handing him the clothes. His clothes. Michael’s ears turned red against his wishes at the thought of wearing Alex’s clothes.

“”You always have a stash of clothes at the Ortecho’s, or is this just my lucky night?” he asked, removing his wet t-shirt. Alex turned away, making Michael roll his eyes.

“I would usually come here when things got ugly at my place. Arturo didn’t mind me sleeping on Liz and Rosa’s floor, so I kept some of my stuff here. Tonight I’m here for Liz, though,” Alex explained.

Michael removed his pants. “You know you don’t have to turn away when I’m changing, right? We’ve seen each other naked, like, a hundred times.”

Now it was Alex’s turn to blush. “I think a hundred is a little hyperbolic,” he said as he turned around to face Michael.

Michael ran the towel down his body before finally ruffling his curls dry. “Well there was our first time... “

“Obviously.”

“And the time in the cab of my truck just a few days later…”

“That was just uncomfortable.”

“And then a week later when we had that picnic out in the desert at midnight…”

“Ugh, that was just gross. Do you know how many spiders and scorpions are out there? Definitely wish I’d kept my pants on for that.”

“And then add a few more in the back of my truck and that should add up to one hundred!”

“Still a hyperbole. I’d say that’s 8, total. The rest at least one of us kept our pants or shirts on.”

“Sorry, I forgot to add the ones from my dreams.”

“Oh god, please shut up,” Alex said just a little loudly, making Michael snort and put a finger to his lips.

“Shh, Alex, c’mon. No need to wake up Arturo by discussing our epic sexcapades.”

Michael was now fully dressed in Alex’s clothes, wearing a burgundy sweater that felt softer than anything he’d ever worn before and black jeans that were just a little too tight. He looked at himself in the mirror and cracked a smile.

“Maybe I could pull the emo look off, huh? What do you think, darlin?” He added the “darlin” as a test. When Alex was actually pissed, the pet name only ticked him off even more. When Michael was starting to get back on his good side, he brushed it off and pretended he didn’t like it, even though he definitely did.

Alex suppressed a smile. Score.

“I think you’re ridiculous. Now lean against the sink and hold this washcloth.”

Michael raised an eyebrow but did as he was told.

“Here, hold the washcloth like this,” Alex said before gently moving the fingers on Michael’s left hand around the cloth. It hurt like hell, but Michael did his best to hide it. He didn’t like Alex seeing him in pain, especially when he knew Alex blamed himself. Michael didn’t want him to have another reason to feel guilty.

“It’s good of you to come over here and be with Liz. She seems…” He trailed off, not sure of what he was planning on saying. She seems, what, bad? Exhausted? Depressed? Like she’d just had her favorite person in the world taken from her, and now the entire town was spreading lies about her? He just let Alex finish his thought.

“It’s just what friends do. She needs support right now,” Alex murmured, wrapping the gauze around Michael’s fingers. “She’s leaving town, too, soon. Which is a good thing, I think.”

Michael stiffened at that. He already knew Liz was leaving, of course. He was just as responsible for that as he was for Rosa’s postmortem defamation. It’s that “too” that hits. Maybe it was the buzz from the acetone or the thrill of Alex watching him undress, but either way Michael was able to forget for a second about the coldness that had been between them just a few minutes ago, and the reason for it being there. That little word, “too”, was a painful reminder that hurt just a little more than the feeling of his disjointed bones being squeezed too tightly by Alex’s makeshift splint. Michael inhaled sharply to indicate this.

“Shit, sorry, let me make this a little looser.”

Michael looked down and shook his head a tad bit too violently, trying to indicate that he didn’t give a damn about the stupid splint.

“What? What is it Michael?”

Michael squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he was diving headfirst into the argument he was trying to pretend had never happened.

“You can’t go.”

Alex dropped Michael’s hand, which he’d just finished putting the last piece of tape on.

“Goddamn it, Michael, did we really not spend enough time talking about this already? I’m sick of my father looming over me, and, let’s face it. I’m not like you. I can’t just waste my life in this garbage town forever, sustaining myself on whiskey and bar fights.”

Michael opened his eyes back up and realized he had tears welling up. It wasn’t because of what Alex had said, words and insults didn’t phase him anymore. It was that his deepest anxiety was becoming his reality. Michael was going to be left behind, yet again.

He was used to pushing his fears down, but right now he didn’t want to repress. He wanted Alex to understand exactly how he was feeling, no matter how childish or pathetic he sounded in the process.

“I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t want to be alone.”

He looked up to meet Alex’s eyes. The other boy’s face melted from the defensive hardness he’d held before to something much softer. It wasn’t piteous, it was just… sad.

“I don’t want to leave you Michael. I definitely don’t want you to be alone. You’re the only reason I’ve ever even considered staying.”

Michael looked down again. His words were sweet, but they held no meaning. It didn’t matter how much Alex cared about him, he was still leaving.

“You know this doesn’t have to be goodbye forever, right? I’ll be coming back after basic, and then I’ll be coming home on leave whenever I can.” Alex cupped Michael’s face with his hands, forcing him to look up at him. Memories flooded in of their first kiss, when they cradled each other’s faces in the UFO emporium. Michael mirrored the movement and leaned in to Alex’s space, but didn’t close the gap. Instead, he watched Alex closely, reading the earnesty in his eyes. It seemed like he truly believed they could still be together, even through hell.

It was Alex that made the move, pressing Michael into the sink behind him and tenderly kissing his lips. Their movements were slow and gentle, much different from their usual sexual intensity. This was a different kind of intimacy. They touched each other lovingly rather than lustfully, their focus not on rushing to make each other come, but instead on patiently memorizing every detail they could. They were so enraptured with their shared space that the outside world seemed to melt away, including the door that was being pushed open behind them.

“Oh shi-” they heard behind them, shattering the moment. Alex jumped away, terror in his eyes. Michael’s heart was in his throat. Of course, it was just Liz, who didn’t actually care about their romantic involvement, just that they didn’t have sex on her bathroom sink. Still, the last time they were interrupted like this wasn’t a night they wanted to relive.

“I just wanted to let Guerin know that it stopped raining,” Liz said, her eyes turned to the floor uncomfortably. This was her polite way of saying “please get out of my home it’s past midnight and I’ve been waiting for you to leave for half an hour”, so he took the cue for what it was and headed out the door with a nod.

“Hey, Michael?” he heard from behind him. He turned back around.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving in a week. I’d like to see you before then, to say goodbye.”

Michael gave another small nod, and headed down the stairs at twice his usual speed, not wanting either of them to hear him cry.

When he got to his truck, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep anytime soon. So, instead, he devised a plan to ensure he wouldn’t be around whenever Alex decided to schedule that goodbye.

And this plan required Kyle Valenti’s hubcaps.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #roswell nm fic #liz ortecho #malex angst

25 notes · View notes

katsukikitten · 5 years ago

Text

Cremari

Life with a healing quirk was hard on the heart.

Not because of the stress or because of the long shifts. Not even the seemingly endless hours of moaning and groaning from severe patients.

It was because you couldn't save everyone.

Most of your patients fully recovered after you've laid hands on them.

Key word, most.

Only one man proved difficult. He was around your age with black hair and piercing eyes who seemed to show up to your underground hospital weekly since his first burn. A time when you two were so young, too young to be exploited for your quirk no matter how exceptional you two were.

But there he sat in the chair fighting back tears as your hands smoothed over ointment on a deep burn, massaging soothing power into his skin.

At first you could heal it completely. It was easy to coerce his skin to meld back together but soon he would use more and more of his power. Damaging himself and taking longer to come and see you between burns despite your nagging.

Here he was again much older and much more burnt than you remember. His wounds fresh as you can tell from the steam coming from the sutures in his arm. Your heart pounds harshly in your chest, rattling your rib cage as you stare at his charred skin.

Some of it you will not be able to convince to return to its healthy glow as it stares up at you with black angry eyes. Jaded from the repeated trauma, bitter enough to resist your power.

Which is something you've never come across before and you have healed a lot of shit since you were six.

Your fingers work on the newest burn on his shoulder, begging the skin to calm down. To stop being angry blisters. You watch him fight to keep his face from contorting as he sighs deeply. Pushing into your touch, not only can you administer chemicals that act as pain medicine through your finger tips you have this naturally soothing vibe about you.

Something he has come back for time and time again.

"I think you should stop using your quirk." You say quietly, fingers aching from trying and mostly failing. Having only brought his skin to a first degree burn. Those damn blue eyes snap open and give you a rare icy glare before settling to boredom.

"I need to use it to get what I want." He sighs grabbing onto one of your hands, working his thumbs in smalls circles to help with the aching. A gesture he takes after every healing session, he has been the only one to ever think of what the toll of healing can do to you.

"But is it worth permanently disfiguring yourself?" It comes out harsher than you intended but you cannot help it as you stare at his mostly naked body littered with your failure. His hands stop working on yours but he does not drop it.

"You sound disgusted." He says flatly but you see the hurt flash in those blue eyes.

"I..I didn't mean for it to...I'm just...I'm worried...Dabi-kun." Even after all this time you do not know his real name. A secret he has kept and a name he has only recently given himself.

A cruel joke in his name. One that mocks you although he sports it for irony.

He kisses your finger tips one by one before pressing his untouched lips to your palm. You swallow thickly. You know what comes next. He sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the make shift bed motioning for you to stand between them.

You obey, stepping gingerly between his exposed legs. He smiles warmly at you and you cannot find the heart to return it.

Not with what he is doing to himself. Every part of his skin marred in purple is a reminder to you. A reminder that he chooses to do this to himself for whatever seemingly unattainable goal that he has.

And there is no amount of talking, sex or unrequited love that will change his mind.

Still as he grabs onto your face gently pulling you to him to capture your lips you'll still try.

You'll try to convince him as you do his skin with ever open mouthed kiss.

Every swipe of the tongue and thrust that you take.

With every shared earth shattering quake that you're sure to lock eyes with him for.

You just hope you can convince him before he himself becomes too jaded.

He lingers longer than normal this time, pressing agaisnt your body in the much too small cot. He lies on his side facing you as you feign and fight sleep. His fingers pushing back damp hair from fucking for so long. Fingers that slowly trace from your third eye chakra to the bridge of your nose.

Almost instantly putting you to sleep although you fight it hard. You do not like to sleep while he is around.

Because you every time you wake up he's vanished.

And today is no different. You fight back tears as you relive the night before. You regret it.

Not the kissing, the touching and certainly not the fucking. You regret falling asleep.

You regret letting him leave.

Months pass and worry plagues you so deeply it has wrapped its spindly fingers around your bones. Sapping any and all energy from you, keeping you up at night and having your body give up mid healing session on your top paying clients. Something your boss is seething over. The very same boss you sit across now.

He slams his meaty first onto the desk, cracking the lacquered surface with deep fissures. You jump, never getting used to his temper.

"Damn it Y/N." He growls, leaning much to close to you, "Do you even know why you're here ?"

You look down into your lap, knowing exactly where this story is going.

"Your mother had you in my hospital." He pushes his finger into the desk as if pointing out a physical fact, "Do you know what she said when she was discharged?"

You do not answer, wringing your little apron with white knuckles.

"The nurses asked her to wait to take you and she said 'I dont care what happens to *it*.' And then she left!!" He's yelling now, "Out of the kindness of my heart I gave you to my wife and this is how you repay me?!"

Spittle flies into your face and you wipe it away gently. Careful not to move to quickly.

"I'm sorry sir." You bow further and he scoffs, his chair creaking from his weight as he leans back.

"You're God Damn right you're sorry!" He finally looks at you and your downward face before sighing, "Look finish this shift and then take a few days off okay? Stop thinking about whatever the hell you're thinking about so you can heal blokes again. Got it?"

"Yes sir." You say before standing walking back to your working room, grabbing onto a clip board with the next case.

"Ah Y/N. You already have a patient." The charge nurse says, grabbing the clipboard back. You give a puzzled look.

"Who? I don't have an scheduled appointments."

"Oh your usual. Uuuhhh that burnt to fuck dude." Your heart stops in your chest. You turn on your heel before he can finish speaking breaking out into a full sprint to room 405.

Your heart beats faster than your little white sneakers can slap agaisnt the heavily bleached linoleum just before you rip open the door to be met with the rancid smell of burnt flesh.

Oh how you wish you hadn't opened that door.

Dabi lies with fluttering eyelids from the searing pain. Skin beneath his eyes and from his lips down to his collar bone are charred that angry unforgiving purple. Depsite having never had to previously heal those places, whatever he's done there is no going back.

No healing those full lips that speak soft kindness to you. That press soft kisses to your brow bone at least not with out him being in constant pain.

"Y/N." He says softly, letting a smile play on his lips before he audibly winces. Readjusting himself to sit up more properly for you to heal him. You stand stunned in the hallway as you look him over. Heart finally catching up with your feet as it pounds, banging on to your ribs before free falling into your stomach.

Awaking a new and extremely rare emotion in you.

"Get out." You say darkly and he is taken a back. Not quite sure as to what you said considering you spoke so softly.

"What love?" He sits on the side of the jarryrigged bed, hands out reached to you. You're shaking so hard you have to clench your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering.

"I SAID GET OUT! GET OUT GET THE FUCK OUT!!" You find yourself screaming as his eyes widen. Filled to the brim with hurt that threatens to spill over. But he stops it just in time, blinking it away as he stands. He tries to console you, placing his burnt hands into your slender shoulders, rubbing up and down them before he leans in for a kiss.

A kiss that would hurt you more than he could imagine and you cannot help your self as a slap rings out in the quiet hallway.

"I said get the fuck out. Now Dabi." You bite out so harshly that even the passing nurses shrink back. He stares at you stunned a final time before his gaze turns icy cold.

"It was fun while it lasted I guess." He is seemingly apathetic as he looks down at you.

As if you always meant nothing.

And clearly you have, what with the state he has brought himself into. You watch as he walks from the hospital, burning the chairs in the lobby with bright blue flame to spite you.

This was the hardest part you were talking about.

You couldn't save everyone.

@ha-tep per your persuasion/request. Hopefully it lives up to my others. I liked working with his character though I feel I need more exposure/ research to get him right or to write longer fics. ENJOY

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #bnha x reader #bnha dabi #dabi bnha #dabi imagine #dabi #dabi is daddy

208 notes · View notes

itssolonelyhere · 4 years ago

Note

I dont know if you prompts or requests but can you do a Sakura or Joker being sick and the other having to take care of them from Tyaku and Queen? I like both versions of her from each and wonder how theyd react to it.

To be honest, I never gave it any thought. This is a good idea to flex my writing muscles and give me a break from the mountain of revisions I’m working on. I’ll give it a go and hopefully, it’s not too bad… I’ll do one for Tsūyaku now and when I’m done work, another for Queen of the Rhombus. If you have any more, I don’t mind doing them.

Tsūyaku – Sakura’s sick in bed when J comes back from a job.

It's hot. Too damn hot.

Sakura groans and tears her eyes away from the ceiling to stare out the window. The snow's still falling and it doesn't seem as if it'll stop soon. It's a beautiful sight that would have delighted her on most days, but she can't find it in herself to relish the view.

Green eyes watch the feathered crystals dancing in the wind, twirling around as it gently falls to the ground. It's a struggle to crane her neck up, hoping to see how much area it covers since she fell asleep. To her surprise, everything outside is pure white, leaving nothing untouched. The dead trees and grass, the bench where she likes to sit on to read, the van parked alongside the building, even the wrap-around porch. All blanketed by winter's frosty kiss and it's so dazzling that it's hard to look at for too long.

The darkening sky is still white, but she can tell it's getting late without rolling over to check the clock. Dropping against the mattress, Sakura lets out a shuddered breath and swallows hard. Being sick is a miserable experience that leaves her with nothing to do aside from mulling over everything that worries her. It's foolish, she knows, but part of her is still concerned.

Joker's been gone for a few days, which isn't unusual at all. Sometimes he stays for brief periods in the city for his 'job', but always comes back. Usually, it's with a cocky smirk and filthy clothes, yet on those few occasions that he doesn't… Someone ends up in the basement where he spends hours doing God-knows-what with his tools. The pinkette knows what goes on down there and it's not a secret, either.

That area is off-limits, especially to her, and Rocco is the only one that's alive who's seen it. If curiosity got the best of her and she took a tour, it will only haunt the pinkette's days and night. She doesn't enjoy that kind of 'entertainment' and Joker knows that. Snooping around might end up in a little punishment, but that's about it. Anyone else would be terrified at the thought, and rightfully so. Her discipline doesn't end with broken bones, missing limbs, or death.

Hearing the familiar stomping up the stairs, Sakura wants to push herself up the bed to greet him. Another trickle of sweat trails along the pale skin of her face from the effort, but she can't muster the strength to even sit up. It's pathetic to find herself in such a state, especially with her abilities. The pinkette can't remember the last time she was sick, let alone to this degree. With a strained groan, she gives up and settles into the mattress, waiting for him to burst through the door.

The doorknob twists and she peers over the fluffy duvet to see a tall figure standing at the threshold. Just as she expects, Joker looks like a mess as he stalks into the bedroom, leaving a wet trail of shoe prints across the hardwood floor. His purple trench coat has splotches of ash and dried blood, mixed with other substances she'd rather not think about. The greasepaint is smeared and missing in patches, revealing his tan skin beneath, with the rest weeping down his face. As always, J's hair is a faded, stringy mess that never listens to any commands, just like its owner. No matter when she catches him, he forever has the appearance of a wild madman.

And that's just fine.

Right away, his brow furrows when he notices her lying beneath the covers, unnaturally pale and sweaty. Usually, Sakura is busy doing something or another, whether it's reading or wrapped up in a craft. Not today. Those black pits in his sockets narrow on her as he shrugs off his trench coat, tossing it over the back of a chair. They make her want to shrink into nothingness, no matter how many times she gazes into them.

He moves to stand at the end of the bed, staring without saying a word. It's hard to tell if he's in a pleasant mood or not when it's like this. No one's better at keeping everything hidden than him, whether it's his thoughts, feelings, or intentions.

"I missed you…" Her voice is low and raspy, trying to suppress a cough working its way up. All-day the pinkette's been hacking up and the sensation of blades dancing along her throat won't go away.

The side of his mouth quirks up at her words, even if it seems like someone's tugging on it with a fishline. She knows Joker won't repeat it back, but it's his eyes that give him away. He always says they're the gateway to the soul and in the privacy of their room, they can reveal what his words won't.

"You're sick." It's not a question or guess, and she knows it. He can always tell when something's off or not right, no matter if she tries to hide it. They grew up together, and he's already seen it all, even if she's still missing pieces to their puzzle.

Sakura gives him a weary, apologetic smile, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. When he comes home, she likes to greet him and show how much she missed him, whether he disappears for a day or five. Right now, her aching muscles can't bear to even get herself up.

"Hmm…" Joker grunts and saunters off towards the bathroom and she almost calls after him. From the looks of his clothes, he can use a good shower, but those are trivial matters to him. Even if she wants to spend time with him, he's a busy man and has been gone for days.

Sighing, the pinkette leans back against the pillow and closes her eyes. Jack will come to her when he's ready and needs his space. Who knows what kind of shit-show he just pulled off? She might as well try to get some sleep and hopefully, this sickness will run its course faster.

'I need to get better soon. I'm useless like this.'

Something sopping wet and cold drops onto her face, jolting Sakura back to her senses. Sputtering from the water running down her skin, she reaches up in surprise and yanks it away. Joker's looming over the side of the bed and arches a brow, trying to hold back a cackle she knows is coming. Glancing at her hand, there's a soaking, wet rag he didn't bother wringing out.

'Fucking figures…'

"Keep it on your forehead, doll." Despite his expression, there's something playful in his pitch-dark, glassy eyes. When she doesn't move, he snatches the rag and folds it over, smacking it against her forehead. Beads of cold water trail down her temples into the pink hair strewn over the pillow and she bites her lip to keep back a retort. Most people would see this as being heavy-handed and crude, but she knows better. This is his version of care and it's the best he can do. This is more than she can ask for. It's the intent and effort that's appreciated, even if J's harsh with everything he does.

The cool rag feels heavenly against her heated skin and she breaks out in goosebumps from the difference. A breathy sigh spills from her lips and he smirks at the reaction.

"We're not done yet." Sakura finally notices what's in his gloved hand. A bottle of medicine and a spoon. She has no clue where the spoon came from and doesn't ask. It'll only result in a vague or arrogant remark, neither she wants to deal with at the moment.

Watching him fiddling with the cap, the pinkette can't help recalling all the times she did this in the past for him. Eight years ago, when his mouth was healing after being slashed open. He consistently kept tearing the stitches open, and they became so infected, yet he refused to go to the hospital. Jack was always so goddamn stubborn and never listens, even if it results in making himself suffer twice as long.

"Open up." The spoon is right near her lips, and she grimaces from the strong scent of the medication. It's dark red and reminds her of blood, but she'd rather smell that over this. Noticing her expression and distaste, gloved fingers pinch her stuffy nose, and she reluctantly opens her mouth. The nasty liquid runs down her throat as the metal clangs against her teeth, making sure she takes all of it.

"Don't spit it out or I'll have to punish ya." Joker pops his lips, ignoring the way she's kicking her feet around under the covers and the disgruntled noises eating away at the small amount of energy she has left. It's disgusting, and he knows how much she hates medicine, but she needs it. Sometimes people have to do what's necessary for the ones they care about.

"Gross!" She swats his hand away from her nose, letting annoyance overpower her exhaustion. If looks can kill, Batman would have one less chaotic problem to deal with.

"How 'bout ya just relax? Hmm? Ya won't get better by being a pain in the ass." This time, J doesn't restrain the cackle that's been building up in his chest. It's harsh on the ears, but Sakura finds it enjoyable and contagious, causing her annoyance to wane. She can never stay angry at him long, no matter what he does.

"That's my girl." He leans down and kisses the tip of her nose, leaving a red smudge behind. That only makes his fit worse, falling into hysterics. She never understands why he finds leaving greasepaint on her face so funny, but that doesn't stop her from smiling.

"Heh. Looks good on ya." Grabbing the rag, he wipes it off before dropping it back in place. She frowns at the water running down her neck, even if it feels good. J is such a weird man, but she loves him anyway in all his vicious glory.

Joker's eyes don't leave hers as he toes off his battered dress shoes and starts plucking the buttons of his green waistcoat. When he was standing next to the bed, she noticed everything's wet and cold from being out in the snow. If the pinkette wasn't so sick, she'd help take it all off for him and use herself as bait to tempt the clown into a hot shower. That's the best way to get him cleaned up, otherwise, he doesn't care about any of it. He'll go filthy for days without batting one of those heavy, shadowy lids.

"How'd it go? Did you guys have any problem with the snow?" Jack frowns after throwing his belt on the floor when the inquiry causes a coughing fit that makes her small body shake beneath the duvet. His lip curls up and she thinks he's about to snarl, but it doesn't come. Stamping across the hardwood floor, he clicks his tongue and throws the covers off his side of the bed and flops down.

For a moment, Sakura thinks he might be angry that she asked. Since the day they ran into each other, he never really liked talking about his 'job' to her but has been opening up a little more as time goes by. Sometimes he complains about a goon making a grievous error that Joker rectifies with a bullet or attempts to lure the Bat out from whatever cave he's been hiding in after Dent's death. The pinkette finds it all fascinating and exciting, even if it's terrible, but this is who Jack is now. He revels in the explosions and fires, all the mayhem and complicated plans.

"Shaddap if it hurts to talk." He grunts and slides across the mattress, dragging the duvet back over. Sakura shifts to look at him, watching the clown leaning his bare back against the headboard. The muscle in his cheeks twitches and he mutters something under his breath, but she can't pick up on it.

'What's he doing now?'

"C'mere." Despite telling her to come to him, he scoots over and the bed dips under his weight. Laying on his side, J moves closer until there's no room left. She knows he missed her, even if the words won't come out. Actions always speak louder and prove more than anything else. Sweet-nothings and heartfelt confessions are what most people yearn for, but Sakura would rather a man show her the truth than speak lies.

This is his form of care, even if it's gruff and obnoxious. Jack's violent, arrogant, manipulative, and downright cruel most of the time. However, it's those specks in between that’s saved especially for her that makes the rest inconsequential. The clown keeps her safe from the other monsters that lurk in the shadows throughout the city. They won't hesitate to rip her to pieces or abuse her ability, unlike this man. He likes the pinkette staying whole, even if their nights result in minor cuts and bruises in the shape of a large hand or long fingers. It's nothing she can't heal and they both have fun causing them. That's what happens when a man's rough in bed and he does it right.

Sakura closes her eyes when he buries his face in her hair, greedily breathing in her scent. J treats it like huffing in fumes he's trying to high from and never wants to stop. A hand slithers under the sheets and rests on her abdomen, drawing lazy circles over the thin fabric of her shirt with his fingers. He's been doing this more often lately, and she's not sure why but is worried he might stop if she asks. It's soothing and helps lull her into a peaceful state, letting all the worries from outside the bedroom melt right off her shoulders. Nothing matters anymore, except the two of them.

The small action elicits a groan from the pinkette as she leans her head against his chest, finding a comfortable spot. His skin is always so warm as if the fire he loves so much dances just beneath the surface. It's like having a safe, heated blanket wrapped around her that no one can get through. As long as she stays here, nothing can touch her besides him and the thought is oddly pleasant.

"Well, doll… Since ya asked so nicely and you're stuck in bed, might as well give ya some entertainment while I'm here." Sakura knows what that means. He wants to paint a vivid picture of his exploits from his excursion in the city, yet is trying to make it seem like he's doing her a favor. The showman in him enjoys the applause and awe he's able to draw out from her by giving every gory detail and miraculous feat, becoming completely smug from his ingenuity and perseverance.

"Great. I want to hear it." She coughs again and her voice is still raspy. He can feel her muscles jolt from each one as his fingers pulse against the flimsy material. The moment the fit stops, the pinkette jerks when he pinches her cheek, giving it a little tug to get his point across.

"I thought I told ya not to talk if it hurts? Hmm?" Glancing up, he has an exaggerated frown that almost looks like a wide smile from her angle. His tongue snakes out to prod the broken skin of his scar, waiting until she slowly nods before continuing.

"Good. Just re-lax and I'll tell ya all about my little run-in with the, ah, Bat."

#Heath Ledger Joker #joker #joker x sakura #oneshot #care #couple stuff #sweet and sour #caveman #the dark knight #crossover #Sakura Haruno #Naruto crossover #fanfiction #medicine #crime #request #I like this

10 notes · View notes

sickjoonie · 5 years ago

Note

ooooh, did you ever continue the jk drabble? he said once that he cant eat late cause it makes him sick. maybe him waking up feeling pukey and awful in the middle of the night and doing that ’oh i dont need to move to the bathroom yet’ thing until he ends up spewing on himself by accident then asking yoongi for something to settle his belly when throwing up hasnt made him feel better? (blame bleucheeks for this one... i cant get it out of my head that yoongi has the meds cause of them)

jungkook felt like he was going to burst, to say the least.

they had returned from a meeting going over the details of their recent album. it had been incredibly successful, to say the least, and everyone was in high spirits.

being treated to a celebratory dinner full of meat and an assortment of dishes from kimchi stew to bibimbap while on an empty stomach was the recipe for disaster. yoongi and seokjin had worked hard on the meal, almost going overboard with how much they cooked. then again, with how deep jungkook’s and taehyung’s stomachs seemed to be, there was no such thing as going overboard.

jungkook was weak to food and all self control went out the window once he had the first bite. by the time yoongi brought out some dessert, jungkook’s stomach was stuffed way past its limit.

he was so, so full and his jeans were way too tight by now. he stifled a loud burp, feeling his ears heat up with embarrassment. normally, he wasn’t bothered with burping after a meal. this time, he had overdone it, turning him shy around his hyungs.

it was getting late; surely he could manage to sneak off under the excuse of being exhausted.

he quickly excused himself to his room, not wanting anyone to catch onto the discomfort he was feeling. he ignored any odd looks from his hyungs, wanting to get to the privacy of his room to deal with his overstuffed belly on his own.

once the door was shut, jungkook groaned and clutched his stomach.

“oh, fuck,” jungkook groaned, feeling how bloated his stomach was under his hands. he couldn’t remember the last time he had gone this overboard. his stomach gave a pained growl, displeased and ill-prepared to digest all of the food.

he unbuttoned his pants, relieving some of the pressure on his stomach, and changed into a pair of dirty sweatpants instead. he laid down on his bed, curling up around his stomach. he massaged it with one hand, desperately seeking relief. he burped quietly as a result from the added pressure from his hands.

along with the fullness came a wave of heavy sleepiness as his body began to work on digesting. he let it take over him, easily falling into the food coma and finding relief in the form of sleep.

he expected to sleep the food off, maybe wake up a bit bloated the next morning. the problem was his stomach got temperamental during the night due to acid reflux. he had learned to stay up a little while longer after dinner to give his stomach time to settle down and process everything he had eaten.

it had taken him months of waking up to a belly ache in the middle of the night before he had learned how to time his eating to his sleep schedule.

he had forgotten that, too dazed from overeating.

jungkook woke up to his stomach growling and nausea swirling in his stomach. he sat up in an instant, whimpering as his stomach protested the movement. his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and his mind was still foggy with sleep.

his stomach never felt this nauseous before during the night, but then again, he didn’t normally eat so much.

he swallowed back the bile, forcing himself to breathe deeply, concentrating hard on keeping his stomach in place. he really didn’t want to throw up, instead telling himself that it was merely a bad case of indigestion.

he hiccuped wetly and swallowed again. he didn’t feel any better and was feeling more and more sick with each minute. jungkook ignored the symptoms, staring into the darkness of his room and practically panting from holding back his nausea.

just when he was considering moving to the bathroom, he lurched forward with a wet gag, followed by a heave that brought up a mouth full of sick onto his blankets. all control was lost, leaving him vomiting violently, coughing and choking for air in between the heaves.

it was far too long before his stomach settled down, returning to painful cramps and a simmering nausea that threatened to increase at any minute.

jungkook was now wide awake, blankets covered in puke and stomach still throwing a tantrum. it was painstakingly obvious that he couldn’t handle this on his own anymore.

jungkook shakily got up, moving away from the soiled blankets and grabbing his phone from his discarded pants. he held a hand on his belly, opening his contacts to find his hyung.

if there was anyone who knew how to settle his belly, it would be yoongi hyung. he had medication for anything and everything, from burns to indigestion to migraines. jungkook was sure he would have something for his belly.

it took three calls before yoongi finally picked up.

“kook you little shit,” yoongi’s sleepy voice echoed through the phone’s speakers.

“h-hyung,” jungkook rasped out, “i need some medicine.”

without any context, yoongi didn’t care. “find it yourself.” as far as he was concerned jungkook had merely woken him up for some standard painkillers.

jungkook sighed softly. “i also kind of, uh, puked.” he paused, hearing yoongi take a sharp breath. “all over my bed.”

that got yoongi’s attention. jungkook heard some shuffling, indicating that yoongi was getting up. “aish, kid. your tummy doesn’t know how to time things right, huh?” yoongi sighed. his voice took on a much softer tone, one that made jungkook want to curl up in his arms. “you’ll be alright, bun. hyung will be there in a second, okay? if you feel sick again, head to the bathroom.”

jungkook hummed quietly, then hung up. he rubbed his stomach slowly, whimpering as it seized up with another cramp. it seemed that vomiting had done nothing to help it settle down; he could still hear it gurgling and protesting all the food left in it.

he moved to sit in his desk chair, not wanting to return to his bedsheets but stomach feeling too sore to continue standing. he tried to settle his stomach, taking deep breaths while gently running his fingers over his stomach in circles. he coaxed up a few burps, though it did little to help.

the door opened to his room and the light was flicked on, revealing yoongi in the doorway, struggling to carry everything he had gathered for the maknae. he sighed, seeing the ruined sheets.

“come on, kookie. you can stay in my room.”

jungkook silently got up, trailing after yoongi like a lost puppy and following his hyung to his room. once there, yoongi instructed him to lay back on the bed, pillows already propped up. jungkook laid down and, to his surprise, found himself being tucked in by yoongi.

“poor kookie, your tummy is so temperamental at night,” yoongi cooed, softly ruffling up jungkook’s hair. he moved over to the stuff he had gathered. he returned to jungkook’s side with a heating pad, plugging it into the wall. “hyung will take care of you, don’t worry. your tummy will feel better in no time.”

jungkook didn’t say anything, too nauseous and embarrassed to speak. he should have stayed up and let his stomach instead of running off from his hyungs.

yoongi placed the heating pad on jungkook’s stomach, then kissed jungkook’s forehead. “i know you’re blaming yourself, bunny. these things happen, you can’t control your body.”

jungkook didn’t say anything, placing a hand on the heating pad. it was slowly warming up and would hopefully settle his stomach.

yoongi once again got up, this time bringing back a glass of water and a small pill. “do you think you can take this, bun?”

jungkook nodded, taking the pill from yoongi and placing it in his mouth. he swallowed it down with small sips of water, wincing at his stomach’s protest.

yoongi took the water glass from him, setting it on the nightstand. he sat down on the covers, hand once again returning to jungkook’s hair.

the maknae felt himself automatically relax as yoongi scratched his scalp, small tingles being spent down his spine.

after a while, yoongi was forced to get up. there was still a bed needing to be cleaned; nobody would want to clean it the next morning. “i’m gonna change your sheets, alright? i’ll be right back bun.”

jungkook gave a small nod, watching yoongi walk out of the room before letting his eyes slip close. he could feel occasional low glugs of digestion in his stomach, but it seemed that it was slowly settling down.

when yoongi returned twenty minutes later, jungkook immediately whined for the elder. now that he had medicine in his system and a heating pad, he needed the ultimate cure to all his woes: cuddles.

yoongi smiled fondly, recognizing the exaggerated pout on jungkook’s face. “what a baby,” he teased, climbing under the covers.

jungkook instantly latched onto him, hiding his nose in his hyung’s sleep shirt. he felt yoongi’s laugh and the hand that landed on his back, pulling him closer.

“is hyung your new pillow?”

jungkook nodded. he felt the hand on his back begin to trace circles, making him sigh.

yoongi couldn’t help the warm feeling that enveloped his heart. “sleep well now, bunny. your pillow will always be here for you.”

jungkook didn’t doubt that for one second.

#finn chats #BLEUCHEEKS I LOVE U #ur headcanons....chef kiss x10 #sick!jungkook #yoonkook #kitten cuddles his lil bunny thats it thats the fic #yes i am a little sleep deprived #Anonymous

80 notes · View notes

boku-no-imagine-acadamia · 5 years ago

Note

Could i get a sick monoma who has a crush on reader who is in class 1A, and when he doesnt show up for class, she finds out hes sick and skips her classes to take care of him?

My boy Monoma! I love him! Thanks for the ask! Also sorry if its bad, its my first time writing for him! (Also the format is weird, gotta find out how to fix that.) -Bea

Monoma is... well he’s an ass to be frank, and to most of 1A, and 1B for that matter, it is incredibly difficult to understand why he has this hatred for your class. It’s confusing to say the least. Weather it be his smartass comments or his constant competition with your class, it’s easy to say that class 1A dislikes Monoma. Well, everyone but you. Somehow, you of all people were able to weesle your way into his heart. He was disgusted with himself that he let himself fall for a member of 1A, especially you. You were just so... annoying. You were the definition of a mom friend... but like, a cool, funny, hot, mom friend. You were constantly fluttering around people, making sure they were taken care of. Perhaps he only liked you because he felt recognized by his competition when you talked to him, or the fact that you didnt care that his attitude was less than amazing. Or maybe it was the fact that when you smiled at him, the world felt like it disappeared around him. But unfortunately, a smile wouldn’t cure him. He had the flu, and it was caught far too late for Recovery Girl to heal. It was bad, really bad. His body hurt with the rise and fall of his chest, his throat burned every time breathed, and he had a dry, painful cough. And the hot flashes. Dont even get him started on the hot flashes. It felt like he

You, on the other hand, were in between classes, waiting outside the classroom door so you could walk to your next classes together. It was as routine as breathing at this point, with a set of unspoken rules that came with the tradition

1. Who ever gets out of class first has to wait for the other person

2. If the class is getting out so late that you will be late to your next class if you wait, just go ahead.

3. You always go to the closest classroom first.

It was as simple as that, so when his class was dismissed and students began to file out, you were surprised to see him missing. You stopped Kendo before she got away. “Hey! Where’s Monoma? He normally doesn’t go this long without yelling at us.” You joked lightly.

Kendo’s eyes widened, “Wait... he didn’t tell you?” You shook your head and Kendo, broke eye contact with you, “Oh... he’s sick so you probably don’t wanna hEY WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!” You didn’t hear her, as you were way to busy running to the dorms, specially 1B’s dorms. Kendo already knew where you were going, and she also knows that Monoma will kill her when he gets better. Unfortunately for Kendo, Monoma specially asked the class to not tell anyone that he was sick, especially class 1A. Something about “Not wanting the enemies to know he can get sick,” or whatever. Not like it matters.

You had just arrived at the dorms. For whatever reason, Monoma gave his spare key to you, which was strange because you weren’t even in his class. It’s not like you were complaining, you loved that he trusted you enough to give you the spare key to his room. As you shut the door to the common room, you walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge, happy to find it stocked with ingredients. What were you making? Soup, a traditional sick day meal. You chucked the broth and vegetables in a pot, turned on the stove, and quietly placed the lid on top. It wouldn’t take long, but in the meantime, you decide to go see Monoma. You grabbed a bowl of ice and a cup of water, and hopped in the elevator. Standing in the empty elevator, you took the time to think. As annoying as Monoma was, the boy had carved a hole for himself in your heart. Under the mask of extravagance and disdain, he’s honestly a sweetheart. He doesn’t always show it, but he did care. It was normally shown with small actions, wether it be him packing a bento for you when he had extra food, or texting you good night and telling you how great you are when you had a bad day, he was a kind soul. That’s probably why you have a crush on him. Sure, his blonde hair and beautiful lilac eyes were a bonus, but it was mostly his attitude that made you fall for him. He was loud, angry, and passive aggressive, emphasis on the aggressive. You also admired his drive and determination. Even with a quirk that could be considered less than hero worthy, he worked his angry little ass off to make it into the hero program, and he succeeded. But he didn’t give up there, he’s continued to work hard to be the best he can be. It was incredible and very inspirational. The door opened, and you made your way to Monoma’s room. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door, hearing a grunt and a confused, “come in?” You opened the door and sighed at the scene in front of you. Monoma was in his bed, one leg out of his blanket, his other leg under, tissues surrounding his body. He had his fan on, filling the room with noise. His face was pale and gleaming with sweat, his hair stuckto his forehead. He looked up to you with wide eyes as you shut the door behind you quietly, walking over to him. You placed the ice and the glass of water on his night stand, then sat down on his bed. You just kinda... looked at each other for a few seconds, and then he tried to sit up. He groaned, his head pounding from sitting up to quickly.

You pushed him back down gently, when he finally speaks. “Why are you here?” He questions.

“Because you’re sick.” You say, grabbing the cup of water from the nightstand.

He furrows his eyebrows at you. “Yeah, so?” He states.

“So I’m taking care of you,” you hold the cup out to him, “Drink some water.”

He pushes the glass away, craning his neck in an attempt to look at the clock on his desk. “No, what time is it?” He looks back to you.

Checking the clock, you look back to him, “10:45, why?”

He sighs and rubs his face, grabbing a tissue to blot his face with, then throwing the tissue somewhere behind you. “You should be in class.” He grumbles.

“Yeah, well I’m not, I’m here taking care of you,” You shove the glass of water back in his face, beginning to become aggravated with him, “now shut up and drink the fucking water.”

He turns his head away from you and pouts, then mumbles, “Fuck you, no.”

You lean towards him, close enough to where he can feel your breath tickling his face. “Drink. The. Fucking. Water. Now.” You growl.

He turns back to you and crosses his arms over the blanket, then reaches out and grabs the cup. “...Fine...” He mumbles into the cup, taking a sip of the cold liquid. Honestly, it’s really soothing, like a dry sponge absorbing water for the first time, but he would never admit that to you.

He shoves the water back to you,“Good, now then, have you taken any medicine?” He stays silent and turns away from you, becoming fairly interested in the pile of tissues on the floor.

As you place the cup back on the night stand, you grumble, “Monoma...”

He doesn’t look back up to you, he just mumbles, “..no..”

You sigh and chuckle, “Christ. No wonder you’re sick. I’ll go downstairs and grab some. I’ll be right back.” You pat his head and he whines.

The one thing you didn’t think to ask was where the medicine cabinet was, so instead of just finding the medicine, you were forced to shuffle through the many different cabinets, until finally you found the holy medicine cabinet. You sifted through it until finally you found what you were searching for. You disided that since your down here, you may as well grab a bowl of soup for him. You take the bowl and the medicine back to Monoma.

“Ok, I got medicine and soup.” You say as you open the door. Monoma’s eyes drift from you to the soup

He crossed his arms and shivered, “Where the fuck did the soup come from.” He says, then coughs.

You put it next to the water on the nightstand, then open the medicine. “I made it, now take the medicine, then soup.” You put it in his hands.

He brings it to his nose and smells it, then grimaces and holds it as far away from him as he possibly can. “Ew gross what is this?”

You grab it from his hand and instead try a different method, “Medicine, now open up.” You say gently.

He turns his head away, “No.”

You grumble and press the spoon against his lips. “Monoma... open up.”

He shakes his head at you and turns his nose up, “Nope.”

You sigh, and realize you need to take desperate measures. You place your hand on his chest, or, the blanket over his chest, and lean towards him, putting on the saddest look you possibly can, and then whisper, “Neito... please just take the medicine... if not for yourself then at least for me?” He stares at you with wide eyes as you press the spoon full of the offending liquid to his face.

He finally opens up and lets you put the spoon in his mouth. As soon as he swallows, he grabs the water and chugs the entire things, sputtering, “Ugh, that shit is disgusting. Wasn’t there a better flavor or something?” You grab a tissue and wipe his mouth.

You pet his head lightly and smile at him. “Nope, but thank you for taking the medicine, you did a great job.”

His face brightens a little, and he turns his head away.“Tch, whatever, just give me the damn soup.” He makes grabby hands at you.

You chuckle and grab the soup, “Ok ok, fine. Here.” You pick up a spoonful of soup and hold his chin.

His face turns red, he’s probably having a hot flash, “I can feed myself.” He mumbles, but you still press the spoon against his mouth.

You grin at him and snicker, “Yeah, that’s true, but I wanna feed you, so here.”

He rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, and you feed him. Once he swallows, his eyes widen. “...did you actually make this?”

“Yeah, why? Is it the best soup you’ve ever had?” You teased lightly, giving him another spoonful

He rubbed the back of his neck“Uh, yeah.” He said sincerely... until that smirk of doom graced his face, “I didn’t know that you 1A losers can cook, but you know, I bet that 1B can-“ You put a finger to his lips and his eyes shot open and he tensed up, looking from the hand on his mouth, then back to you.

“Shh shh shh, less competing, more eating.” You giggle as he relaxes again.

You continued to feed him and talk to him for around an hour, until he looked like he was about to fall asleep. You decided it was probably time to leave him alone and head back to your dorm so he could relax and heal. As you got up from the bed, you sighed and looked at him, “Well, anyway, you have my number, so get some rest and call if you need something. Ok?” With no response for a second, you assumed he was asleep and made your way to the door.

“Wait...” You paused in your tracks, turning your head to him, “C-can you stay?” He stuttered as he gave you a sad look.

“Monoma,” you sighed “I’ll get sick.”

A look of confidence crossed his face and he grinned. “If you do, I’ll take care of you.” There was the unmistakable gleam of challenge in his eyes. He didn’t care if he was sick, he would chase after you and bring you back to bed if you took so much of a step out that door, and you knew that.

You shook your head and chuckled, pretending, and failing, to be annoyed, “Ugh, fine. Scoot over.” He did as he was told and made room for you behind him, then patted the bed. You climbed in next to him and he threw the blanket over you, then grabbed your arms and wrapped them around his torso. His shirt was hot, and it was wet with sweat, it was also... smooth?

“Monoma?” You questioned,“Are... you not wearing a shirt?”

He grinned and played dumb with you, “No? It’s hot??? Why the hell would I have a shirt?” He knew exactly what he was doing, and you knew too, so you just sucked it up and put your head on the pillow.

“...whatever,” you sighed, “just go to bed.” You closed your eyes and listened to his breathing in peaceful silence.

Until that silence was broken. “Is there still soup?” Monoma asked.

You groaned and mumbled a reply into his neck, “Yes. You can have some later, go to bed.”

“Ok.” He said happily. There was silence again for another five minutes, until Monoma decided to talk again, “Y/n?”

“What.” You snapped.

He was quiet for a moment, then spoke again, sounded much more drowsy than before.“...Thank you... I love you...” He didn’t say anything else so you assumed he fell asleep.

You took a moment to realize what he said. He loved you... he said he loved you. You barried your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, grinning like a maniac. You replied in a whisper, “...Love you too... sleep well Neito...”

Both you and Monoma fell asleep with huge smiles on your faces.

Bonus:

“Fuck you, like, actually fuck you.” You mumbled from under your blankets.

“Oh honey, is that an insult, or an invitation?” Monoma teased.

You thought about it for a moment, and decided it was definitely an insult, but you didn’t reply. He just snickered and grabbed something off your nightstand. “I told you I would take care of you if you got sick,” he grinned manically, “now.. open up and take your medicine.”

Please send requests and follow for more! See you next time!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #monoma neito #bnha monoma #mha monoma #monoma imagine #monoma x reader #monoma neito x reader #bnha imagines #bnha incorrect quotes #mha imagines #mha incorrect quotes #class 1b #class 1a

167 notes · View notes

loki-fanfic-whore · 5 years ago

Text

They Call Me Medic ch.14

Warnings-TRIGGERS- mentions of rape, mentions of sodomy, adult situations, adult language, self harm, disassociation

@drakesfiance @tarithenurse @kimanne723

Chapter 14 Broken

Alesana PoV

True to his word. He raped me. I didnt know his name, but I screamed until I lost my voice. He was mericless in how he destroyed my dignity and body alike, after hours of him rutting into me like a common whore, I broke mentally and went numb. I felt the deep ache inside of my body screaming 'no more' but knew he wouldnt stop until I told him whatever I didnt know. He stood and pushed me away, his pale skin coated in sweat and grime. I laid on my back, covered in filth and his cum. My tears had dried up long ago. I could smell the blood, my blood, from how raw I was.

"Well...it seems he isnt coming for you." He spoke angrily as he watched me lay emotionless below him. I stared up into the light with glazed eyes, my mind elsewhere.

"No...no he isnt." I spoke in a hoarse soft voice.

"Too bad...I would have love to have seen his face." The man, no older than Stult said as he turned to me. He had a loaded pistol in his hands once again and I sat up.

"If you shoot me...dont miss. I dont want to limp away from this." I goaded and he cocked the hammer.

"What's your name?" He asked holding the pistol towards me.

"Ya know before I splatter your brains across the concrete. I need to know what name to write on his condolences card."

I rolled my eyes.

"Ally....my name is Ally." I said as I looked down the barrel. I didnt care if I died. I didnt care if it hurt. I felt absolutely dead inside.

A smirk crossed his lips.

"Ally, my name is Thornton, but you can call me Thor. I have a proposal for you." He uncocked the hammer and held out a hand for me to stand. Even if Icould stand right now I would never take his hand. Images of the countless rounds of rape and sodomy he performed on me crossed my mind. I swallowed back the bile.

"I propose you work for me. Be my medic, no questions asked. Be my lover at my will and satisfy my every need. Then I'll let you live. Hell I'll even rub it in Loki's face how good of a fuck you are." I blinked at his proposal and sighed.

"I think I would rather die." A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest and he grabbed me by my hair causing me to hiss.

"That's my girl." He spoke coldly as he smashed his lips against mine.

Loki PoV

I trembled with pure rage as reports filed in. It had been weeks and so far there had been Thirteen killed, twenty-two wounded, half the compound burned down, and three shipments were burned. I knew who was behind it too. The same kingpin who was trying to steal Alice away. I threw back the shot of whiskey as I glared down at the mahogany desk.

"Sir. There are reports from our mole that Ales-"

"Dont say her name..." I spat angrily. I needed to sever all feeling I had of her.

Truth be told I replayed the entire six months I had her in my mind. Every time she would scream how I sat outside her door silently and listened to Ripley whine.

How every day I would check on her and talk, sometimes for an hour, before continuing my round around the compound. I remembered the semi-date I took her on where she met the other kingpins in the area and I showed her off as my trophy, as my claim to her. No doubt that is where he saw her, where Thor first heard her laugh and watched her little black dress slip open slightly at the thigh whenever she moved a certain way. The way she looked after two glasses of champagne and how she relaxed.

Closing my eyes I remembered the taste of her lips as she tried to ride me in the limousine on the way home and how two cold showers and three rounds with my hand didnt satiate me. I should have just let her, if it had been any other slut I wouldnt have thought twice...but she wasnt a slut, she was a lady. A beautiful, caring, kind and considerate young woman who I wanted nothing more than to call my lover.

Stult cleared his throat and my eyes snapped back up to him.

"There are reports on the medic." He corrected. I motioned for him to continue as I poured another shot.

"She has been uh..."he paused and tried to word it in a way that wouldnt upset me. I knew the worse to be true.

"She has been impregnated...and now works for Thor. She was forced into being his mistress and is often beaten for open defiance." I clenched my glass tightly and threw back the next shot.

"That's not all...she.. she was branded by Thor himself." I shattered the glass angrily as I stood.

I pictured her beautiful flesh marred with a hideous burn in the shape of lightening, of the brand I loathed upon my back. I slammed my glass covered hand down not caring there were shards deep in my flesh.

"We have to get her." I spoke in a quiet rage.

"No one deserves that...least of all Al- the medic." Stult only nodded and stood straight.

"I'll get the soldiers ready....when?"

"Tonight. I'll burn him to the ground. This is war." I felt her pain as I tried to imagine him raping her. Surely she hadn't enjoyed it. But now...she was carrying his baby, and forced to be his mistress and even worse...she hadn't had her medicine in weeks.

#bad grammar #loki au #loki x female #loki fanfic #they call me medic #possible slowburn #possible smut #possible triggers #crimelord #kingpin

17 notes · View notes

diverdaddy · 6 years ago

Text

The Great Escape: Free Kanan

Pairing: KanaDia Word Count: 7 691 Summary: Dia pauses the search for her friend and pulls up the cardboard packaging, taking out a big, purple plastic mess from it. She finds the spout where a pump may go, inhales a deep breath and the blows it out into the inflatable object.

-Record scratch, freeze frame on Dia as she's about to exhale-

‘’Yup thats me. You're probably wondering how i ended up in this situation.. Well we gotta go back a couple weeks‘’

Author’s Note: Hi, thank you @nozoroomie for my life I dont know how to write but thank you so so much for doing this collab with me and for pretending like I do know what im doing anyways! This is small gift for our friend @chilopawbi because sometimes even your really dumb friends deserve something nice. And this is one of those times. Also avaliable to read on Roomie’s! [AO3]

One would not expect there to be much activity by the pier of the Kurosawa fishing business late on a Friday night. Normally, after 8pm at the latest, lights are shut off in the factory, boats are safely secured in the docks and everything is as it should be. But tonight, if one looked closely, they would see the form of a young adult sneaking into the boat docks, with a large bundle tucked under one arm and a flashlight in the other.

Said girl walks over to the very end of the docking bay, kneeling down without a care. She places the large cardboard packaging under her arm on the wooden floor next to her and glances around the murky waters of the bay, searching for someone. She frowns a bit when she can’t immediately find who she looks for, but time waits for no one. She opts out of her search for her friend in favour of opening the cardboard packaging and getting to work. She spreads out what looks to be a purple plastic mess that’s meant to be blown up. She takes a deep breath and exhales it before picking it up, finding the little spout where a pump may go and instead putting her mouth around it. One more big inhale and then Dia begins to exhale inside the object.

Why exactly does she find herself here tonight? She thinks back to why she’s done this in the first place and remembers all too well what happened when her father came home that day from work.

The senior Kurosawa with dark red hair that matched his youngest daughter was distraught. He sat in the kitchen, head in his hands as his wife brought him a cup of tea. Dia had been walking past the kitchen but the position her father was in wasn’t normal. She pauses on the other side of the doorway when her mother speaks.

“Are you positive that’s what you saw dear? An actual-”

“Absolutely. I have the proof- she can’t move. She’s hurt and stuck there for her own safety.”

“Wow.. A real life mermaid.”

Dia almost falls over. A what?! There’s no way she can hide herself now.

“Excuse me, what?!” Dia says, stepping into the kitchen with a determined look on her face. The one both her mother and father know means she won’t be leaving them until she’s gotten all the information she needs. Her father prinches the bridge of his nose while her mother sighs.

“Dia,” Her father says in a serious tone, bringing his hand down, “Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?”

Yes.

“No- I was walking past,” She responds curtly, “You found a mermaid at work? Really? You can’t be serious.”

She’s always been skeptical about the local tales- the rumours of mermaids living in the ocean near their little town. She thought it was all a legend- stories from the past that were passed down through generations of families and told to the children to fill their minds with wonder and to respect the ocean more (after all, mermaids and the animals can’t continue to live safely unless they keep the ocean clean.)

But Dia is a firm believer in solid proof. There is little proof that mermaids exist- only theories. She refuses to believe this issue at work is a mermaid and not something more urgent. Her father sighs and he stands up, leaving his full cup of tea.

“Well there’s no point arguing with you. Come along Dia- and not a word of this to your little sister, understand?”

No words are said by the two of them as they head towards the front door. They get their shoes on and Dia’s father leads them towards his work truck. Dia feels a little nervous from the aura of anger and exhaustion radiating off of her father, but he doesn’t seem upset or angry. Frustrated maybe- but not with her. The girl feels maybe she should say sorry, but her pride is a stubborn thing. She’ll wait until apologies are meant to be given.

“Father, are you really serious about this mermaid?” Dia asks him in a soft, concerned voice. He keeps his eyes on the road and lets out a small sigh.

“I know you, Dia. You won’t believe me unless you see it for yourself.” He replies simply. Dia blushes a bit embarrassed but leans back in her seat.

The rest of the ride is short and quiet. Dia steps out of the truck when they’re parked and she follows her father into the warehouse. The walk down the docks is a little eerie. Dia feels a twinge of fear within her but she follows her father regardless.

They approach the final bay in the warehouse where their most expensive fishing boat rests. There’s a long rope going along the front of the boat from one dock to the next and a sign that says “Out of order” right in the middle. Dia takes a once over of the side she can see and notices where the large net motor should be its not there- baron of any sign of a net motor whatsoever. She opens her mouth to ask her father what happened when he peers over the dock and points under the water with his flashlight.

“Right there.” he says, holding the light in place, “See down there? The slight discoloured spots just by the bottom of the boat? The spots throw you off but if you focus on them you’ll see the tail fin.”

Sure enough, Dia squints and the spots she can see move. Her brows furrow and when she tries to locate them her eyes detect movement. She follows it with her gaze and she lets out an audible gasp when she sees not just the spots of a tail fin, but an actual, real life form of a mermaid. It’s dark and Dia swears, if it weren’t for the light from their flashlight, she would not believe it. A real living mermaid.

“What… what are you going to do with her?” Dia asks in an unbelieving voice.

Her father stays silent and Dia finally takes her stare away from the mermaid. He looks like he’s contemplating something and Dia really doesn’t like that gaze he has. The answer should be obvious- help heal the mermaids fin and send her back into the ocean where she belongs. But new net motors aren’t cheap and the equipment to repair their best boat may be pricey- she knows that it might put a financial strain on the company. But nothing they couldn’t handle.

His expression alone says a million things that are far from the answer Dia wants to hear.

“That’s undecided. We’re going to figure it all out tomorrow.” He finally answers. “I’m going to go into the office to make a call since we’re here. Come get me when you’re ready to go home.”

He heads down the dock and into the direction of the office building while Dia stays put. It angers her to know that her father may be planning something more for the mermaid before he even releases her- or if he even releases her. She looks down with a furious gaze.

“Disgusting. I won’t let him do anything like that if I can help it.”

As her sentence is finished there’s a small sploosh noise and Dia perks up immediately, flashing her light towards the sound. All she can see are ripples on the surface of the water between her and the boat, and there’s only one thing that could’ve done it. Dia peers towards the surface closer to her and she almost yells when she finds a piercing, amethyst gaze staring up at her through the water. She hears herself gasp but can’t process anything as she gets a close up look of the mysterious mermaid.

Her hair is long and dark- most likely a deep blue hue. Her gaze is cautious, yet there is a curiosity in it that Dia can recognize quite easily. Her gaze moves and Dia can see that the scales and spot designs aren’t just a part of her tail fin- they go up along her sides and cover parts of her chest, as well as parts of her arms (her big, strong looking arms, and oh so very defined biceps.) and framing her face. She can only assume her back is covered in more of the beautiful patterned scales and it’s only then that Dia realizes just how beautiful this mermaid is. She takes in more details of her face- the way her nose points up ever so slightly in a dainty way, the fullness of her lips (her very kissable lips), the way the scales along the underside of her face make her chin more prominent.

Dia swallows. Hard. Oh no. Oh no this mermaid is cute. No- she’s more than cute. This mermaid is a hottie. A bonafide hottie who Dia wishes was more than just a creature of the sea. She hates this- it’s bad enough having a gay crisis in public with Mari around, but now she’s having a moment alone, in her family’s business, with a mermaid of all things.

Her face is the brightest shade of red and whether it’s from shame or the mermaids beauty, Dia really doesn’t know.

The mermaid has yet to move away and she looks further down to find the injury her father mentioned earlier- as clear as day. Along with what looks like rope burns, the sea creature has a long, painful looking gash going down towards her fin, and it is definitely some kind of swollen. Dia frowns concerned, wondering if anything might be able to help it. Does human medicine work on mermaids? Would the mermaid be willing to try it and find out? Would disinfectant cream even be useful if the mermaid has to be in the water? There’s so many questions running through Dia’s mind, but all she can really think about is how this mermaid needs to be let back into the ocean. They can’t keep her here. It’s too cruel. It’s unfair and unjust and holding her hostage is not the way anyone in the Kurosawa family should handle things.

“I’m not sure if you understand me but if you do, please don’t be afraid,” she says softly, “I’m going to help you out of here and get you back home.”

The mermaid doesn’t seem to react much aside from blinking slowly at her. Does this mean she understood? Dia certainly hopes so. She blushes a bit but clears her throat, deciding she’ll talk with her father now, since she has the opportunity.

She doesn’t leave immediately though- there’s something about the mermaids gaze that keeps her entranced. Are mermaids and sirens the same thing? Is this what it’s like to be caught in the spell of one? (Or is Dia just that gay..) She isn’t sure but she also doesn’t mind. The way the mermaid stares has become more curious and interested than anything else and Dia can only hope it’s because she’s understood her slightly.

With one last look over her shoulder Dia heads for her father’s office.

‘’What do you mean I would have to get a brand new boat!?’’ Her father’s voice echos out of the office as Dia gets closer to the door. Now Dia might be gay, but she wasn’t bad at math, a brand new boat would dent the company’s paychecks more than just a small equipment replacement. She stops outside of the office door, this was worse than she thought it would be.

The mermaids fate was probably sealed now that her father got the bad news. How was he planning on exploiting the mermaid now that their best boat had to be replaced? Was there any laws against exploiting mermaids? did it count as animal cruelty or maybe slavery? The more Dia thought about it the more determined she got. She had to help the mermaid break out, and fast.

By the time Dia is out of breath the purple plastic object is far from looking anything like the picture on the cardboard box it came out of. How could her budget bought inflatable chair be so hard to blow up? The huffing and puffing escaping from her would put the big bad wolf to shame, this was ridiculous!

‘’Hey Dia, do you any need help?’’

Dia almost chokes when the friend she was looking for shows up, of course she would be caught now that she was out of breath and looked like a roasted tomato. Facing the mermaid that was looking up at her Dia can’t help but blush harder before collecting herself.

“There you are Kanan.” She finally says, a bit out of breath. “You’re late.”

Kanan smiles a bit.

“I’ve been here the whole time, you just never thought to look under the dock.” She says with a cheeky grin that catches Dia off guard and god could this mermaid be anymore charming?! Seriously?! Just a single smile and Dia’s stomach is doing flips.

Her attention however quickly zones in on all the things Dia brought with her, especially the cardboard packaging for the purple plastic mess Dia was so desperately trying to blow up. She tilts her head curiously, using her hands to push herself up on the dock and keeping herself held up as she read the letters on the box. There’s familiar characters on the label, but on the picture of the box there are a few english letters spelt out. She focuses her gaze on it to try to read what it says.

“B-Brit-ney Spear-s, What’s a ‘Britney Spears?’’ The mermaid asks out of curiosity as she reads the english text out loud.

“To- to address your question, no- No I’m, I’m fine, I- I can do this.” Dia tries to bluff, but she realizes exactly how close Kanan is at this moment and loses a bit of her confidence, “It’s just a dumb, a really dumb Britney Spears, that’s exactly what a Britney Spears is.’’

She feels too embarrassed to admit that Britney Spears is actually an american pop star but Kanan doesn’t need to know that. She turns back to the task at hand, blowing with all her might into the purple plastic as to prove a point, but her moment only lasts for so long before she gives in to her already dead lungs again.

“Feels like you’ve been doing that forever huh? Think we’ll be able to pull this off without your dad finding out?” Kanan asks, leaning onto her elbows and resting her head on her hands as she watches the other girl.

Dia takes a couple deep breaths of air and shakes her head, preparing herself to blow into the inflatable object once again. If she didn’t have powerful lungs before, she certainly would after today. She tries to blow more air into the object but she runs out of breath fast. Maybe she should take a longer break.

“What exactly is stopping your dad from interrupting us?” Kanan asks, a curious smile dancing on her lips.

“One word.” Dia breathes out, digging into her pocket and bringing out her phone. She scrolls through it a little bit before she turns the screen to face Kanan, “Mari.”

“Oookay.. so, how is this ‘Mari’ stopping your dad?” Kanan pries for more information with that smile still on her face. Dia’s face heats up a little more. Gross. She’s super cute when she wants to learn more.

“Mari is the director of my high school.” Dia explains with a bit of reluctance. “She arranged a parent teacher interview with my father. I don’t know the reason why but I do have a bad feeling about it.”

“Why’s that?”

“I have a feeling whatever reason she’s called my father to the school is because she made it seem very urgent. She never told me what she was going to say, but I have a feeling I’ll be scolding her later.”

As this is said, somewhere, across the city at Uranohoshi Girls academy, Mari feels a chill run up her spin as she looks at Mr. Kurosawa across from her. In front of her are three pictures of what seems to be his youngest daughter vandalising school property with various doodles of sweets, small animals and the most alarming thing of all- an english phrase of some sort that reads “send nudes.”

[The truth of the matter is they were all photos taken for the year book that were edited by her and a comrade in arms (Yohane, they called her) to make it look like the little Kurosawa was destroying school property. Mari assumes Dia will be furious with her, but she’s confident she’ll be able to convince Dia it was the only option. ]

Kanan laughs a melodious sound and Dia feels like she could melt into a pile of liquid. Her laugh sounded like velvet and gold, a weird way to describe a laugh but it’s the only way it makes sense to Dia. Dia’s heartbeat echoes and she hopes, prays that mermaids don’t have super hearing. It would be embarrassing for Kanan to hear how loud it is right now.

“Wonder what she made him go all the way there for.” the mermaid muses, lifting her tail fin above the water slightly to splash the surface in an amused manor. Almost like an excited dog wagging its tail.

Dia almost falls over and clutches her chest at the image of the mermaid with puppy ears. (Like the snapchat filter, tongue out and all.)

“So, what is it you’re trying to blow up there?” Kanan asks, still as curious as ever, “Is it going to help you move me to the ocean?”

“Not quite.” Dia replies as she pulls the plastic apart to see just how much more air it needs. “It’s what I’m going to use to follow you far enough into the ocean so I can assure you’ll be safe and on your way home.”

Kanan snorts and Dia glares at her slightly.

“The plan is we blow this up here, you hoist yourself out and I guide you into the wheelbarrow half full of water, then we throw on the hat and chair and other various things to disguise you and make it look like I’m just moving a bunch of junk towards the beach so nobody stares for too long. Once we get to the ocean, I’ll help you into the water then follow you with the floating chair and we go out to the ocean and you go home.” Dia feels like that was a bit of a mouthful but Kanan laughs lightly.

“You know you could just swim in the ocean if you wanna follow me, right?” She suggests to Dia but Dia shakes her head.

“No you see, how will I be able to protect you or me from anything coming our way? I’d be too distracted swimming to keep up with you. So I brought this paddle to smack away anything that tries to harm us.”

Kanan stares at her a little bewildered before she slowly smirks.

“Okay, sure. So we’ve got you sitting on this… not inflated Britney Spears, with the paddle, and then I’m going to hold those while you wheel me to the ocean in the.. Wheelbarrow?” Kanan says, going through the gist of what Dia’s plan is and confirming if she got it right.

Well. When she says it like that it sounds a little far fetched.

“Just let me stick to blowing up this thing so we can get you home. The sooner I do, the sooner we won’t have to worry about my father.” Dia says then she grabs the chair near its spout again.

God she does not want to continue trying to blow this thing up.

Kanan looks around through the things she has there and frowns.

“Can’t you use a tool or something to make it inflate faster? What was it you guys call it.. a pimp? pimple?”

“A pump!” Dia immediately corrects, and the idea hits her like a paddle and illuminates the lightbulb above her head. “A pump! My father probably has one around here!”

It doesn’t take Dia a lot of searching- there’s a locker at the end of the dock bay filled with assorted supplies and tools. She finds the pump almost instantly and runs back to the spot where Kanan waits with the Britney Spears chair. Her face lights up as she sees the pump in Dia’s hands.

“You did have one!” She exclaims.

“Of course! What real fishing business would have a ship dock without an air pump?”

Well, Dia isn’t really sure if it’s necessary to have an air pump for fishing boats, but she’s certainly glad her father and his coworkers thought it was good to keep around.

She gets back to work, finding the little spout where a pump may go, and this time she has one. She connects the pump to the spout before she realises that this is in fact.. a manual pump. Dia almost wants to cry, but she holds it in as she steps onto the small plastic sides, bends over slightly (a lot) to reach the handle and starts pumping with all her strength. And sure enough the pump is more effective than the previous method.

Kanan is watching, the amusement evident in her face as Dia struggles with both balance and rhythm on the manual pump. Human inventions sure was something. But the speed the Britney Spears was inflating at slowed down significantly as Dia’s arms gave in faster than a moth to light.

Why was I a fool in school for cutting gym?! Dia can’t believe it, but she almost feels more out of breath using the pump than she was using her lungs as her arms burns with every movement she makes.

‘’Can I give it a try?’’ Kanan asks a little cheekily as she splashes some more water around with her tail fin.

Dia wants to say no, like the prideful stubborn adult that she is, but the mental image in her brain tells her yes, the mermaid’s arms are strong, with big and defined biceps and getting to see those arms work it... if Dia was a roasted tomato in the past, she’s a marshmallow on fire about to get charred to death right now.

‘’Y-you may,’’ is all Dia can manage as she steps off the pump and moves it closer to the edge for Kanan to reach.

Kanan pulls herself up onto the wooden floor as best as she can, her upper body now out of the water. She bends her tail fin and rests carefully on the dock, the tips of her fin slightly covered by the waters below them. Kanan grabs the handle of the pump and lifts it up, pulling it with ease. She looks a bit surprised at how easy it was and she can’t help but smirk when she pushes her arms forward with just as much ease. She repeats these motions and Dia watches, helplessly and with a bit of envy at how easy it is for the mermaid to pump up this chair. Something that should be absolutely no problem for a slightly athletic human such as herself.

But Dia can’t stop staring. She watches as the mermaid’s flexes her very defined and strong muscle in her upper arms, and how her biceps look even bigger and stronger than they did in the water the first time Dia saw them. If Dia was just any undignified barbaric creature she might’ve been drooling right about now, but Dia had some self control, after all she was a Kurosawa, she had some dignity still left in her as she wipes the corner of her mouth real quick just in case. (When Kanan can’t’ see.)

Good thing It isn’t long before the inflatable object begins to form into the shape its meant to be and in no time at all it’s finished. Dia stops Kanan from pushing a last pump of air into it. She takes out the pump, closes up the spout and then she begins to admire their handy work.

“What.. is it?” Kanan asks, leaning towards it and poking it tentatively, a bit shocked from how sturdy the plastic is.

“A chair.” Dia answers simply.

“A chair.” Kanan repeats, staring at the words “Britney Spears” that are along the back of its purple and glittery design with lots of flowers. “It certainly is. Something.”

She turns herself towards Dia, almost directly beside her on the dock. Dia’s eyes gaze down just the slightest bit and she notices her hand is just one small slip away from touching Kanan’s. She wonders if Kanan is cold all the time, considering where she lives. Or maybe her hands would be warm from the work she did pumping up the chair. Would they be slimey, or just wet? Would they feel perfect with her fingers intertwined between hers, or maybe even better with them holding her around the waist in the tightest embra-

Dia shakes her head and smacks her cheeks and it startles Kanan ever so slightly. She tilts her head and looks bewildered at Dia and the eldest Kurosawa daughter decides they need to move out now before her mind travels to more dangerous thoughts and imaginations.

“I’ll be right back.” she says, preparing to stand, “It’s time we get you out of here and back to the ocean.”

Once Dia is on her feet again she leaves to go find the wheelbarrow where she parked it. It doesn’t take her long to find it and wheel it back over to Kanan, her own arms really getting a workout tonight, but the wheels on the wheelbarrow sure made it possible even for Dia.

Thankfully Dia had prepared enough by already filling the wheelbarrow with water with the help of a friend, the water hose that the workers would wash the different equipment with. Now all they would have to do was get Kanan into it.

When Dia comes into view again Kanan’s curiosity is sparked, this wheelbarrow looked so heavy, yet Dia seemed to be able to push it around just fine. Human inventions didn’t seem all that bad, they were quite amazing.

‘’So that is a wheelbarrow? It’s amazing, it makes it possible even for you to move really heavy things!’’ Kanan beams with that smile plastering her face whenever she learns something new and exciting, and Dia, Dia is insulted, and gay, and its unfair because Kanan was so dang cute even when she was being so blunt.

‘’Yes, now we just need to get you into it. Do you think you can lift yourself into it?’’ Dia asks, pushing the wheelbarrow as close to Kanan as she can.

‘’Maybe,’’ Kanan grabs onto the edge of the side of the wheelbarrow, slowly lifting her upper body off the wooden dock and into the wheelbarrow. When it starts to wiggle slightly Dia throws herself over the opposite site, and with some teamwork and spilled water Kanan finally makes it into the wheelbarrow.

Now with her her ‘butt’ submerged in what water was still left in the wheelbarrow Kanan lets out small giggle that turns into a full on laugh as she wiggles her tail that’s hanging off the edge in a small celebration. ‘’Dia we did it!’’

Doki doki, Dia’s heart almost stops there and then, how can this mermaid keep amazing her like this, this was bad for Dia’s health in more ways than one as she forgets how to breath when the mermaids laugh plays in her head and she soaks up the picture perfect 4K HD smile worthy of an Oscar to go along with it. Keep it together Dia, you still have a mission to complete!

But god did it take all of her not to clutch her chest at the sight. She needed to cover this girl up! Without warning she bends down to pick up a folded up beach towel and throws it over the part of Kanan’s fin that drapes on the outside the wheelbarrow. Then she throws a hat on top of her head and before Kanan can register anything else, sunglasses are shoved perfectly in place on her face.

She then turns to the blown up chair and furrows her brow. It might be a bit inconvenient transporting it this way now that Dia looks at it, but what’s done is done. She turns to Kanan for a moment, blushing in slight embarrassment as she speaks.

“H-hold onto this.” she says, grabbing the inflated chair and resting the practically weightless object onto the mermaids lap. The amount of times she's stuttered tonight is preposterous and the sooner Kanan is back at home in the ocean, the sooner she won't be suffering from being too gay to function.

Dia soon moves to the back of the wheelbarrow and with a little bit of effort, she lifts up the handles and pushes forward. The additional weight proves to be a bit of a surprise and she lurches forward, Kanan almost dropping the chair and more water spilling in the process. Kanan laughs lightheartedly while Dia tries not to trip over herself and onto the mermaid. She’s already been embarrassing enough.

After a couple trials and errors Dia finally grasps how to control the wheelbarrow with a mermaid and inflatable chair inside it. After a couple nasty sharp turns she’s out of the ships docking bay and into the evening light, the sun a deep orange and reflecting a beautiful array of colours into the sky. A perfect time for a mermaid send off if she’s honest.

She maneuvers carefully towards the beach, having a bit more difficulty the moment the wheelbarrows tire goes from solid ground to sand. Dia huffs and puts a bit more effort into it, lifting Kanan up higher and using more force from her legs to push forward. She notices Kanan’s sideways glance to look at her but she forces her gaze to stay away from that deep purple gaze. In the light of the setting sun they’re almost a wineish red colour and it’s such a distracting gaze it’s taking all of Dia not to make direct eye contact with her.

With a bit of success (Kanan caught her gaze three times and with each time she did, her eyes crinkled upward) she finally reaches the water. She drops the wheelbarrow and moves to the side of it, grabbing the chair off of Kanan’s lap. She then removes the hat, sunglasses and towel, leaving them all in a small neat pile not to far away. She can hear Kanan shifting by the sloshing sounds of the water beneath her butt in the wheelbarrow. She’s eager to get back into the ocean and back home.

Her heart aches a bit, knowing this is it. This may very well be the last time Dia will ever see Kanan again. She knows it’s a little to early to think about this but knowing there’s only a bit more time left with the cryptid does hurt. Dia would have loved to see her again and again, to learn about Kanan’s world under the sea and in turn tell Kanan tales about her life on land. There’s so many more things Dia wants to experience with this mermaid. She wishes with all her heart that they had more time together.

She takes a deep breath and taps her cheeks lightly. The angsty sadness can wait until later- right now the mission was almost at it’s end. Kanan needs to be back in the ocean where she’s safe and Dia won’t let her wait any longer. She turns back to the mermaid and hopes that she can’t see the sadness in her eyes.

“Alright Kanan, are you ready?”

Kanan’s smile becomes a toothy grin and she nods.

“Let’s do this Dia!”

‘’Here goes!!’’

Dia lifts the handles of the wheelbarrow again, there was only a whole three or four meters of sand left separating Kanan from the ocean. One big breath and Dia pushes forward with what’s left of her strength. Was the wheelbarrow always this heavy? Was it Dia’s fatigue? Was it just the sadness weighing down on her in the last moment? She can’t think about that— she’s almost there!

The front wheel, the only wheel, on the wheelbarrow touches the water.

That’s when it happens. The wave crashes into the front of the wheelbarrow and Dia’s life is flashing before her eyes as she loses her balance, her feet slip on the sand, the wheelbarrow falls over like humpty dumpty toppling off his brick wall. They were so close.. yet Kanan goes crashing down into the wet sand and that is the last thing Dia sees before she gets a mouthful of wet sand herself.

Dia’s head hurts, but the splashing sound she hears as she opens her eyes again, could it be? Did Kanan make it into the ocean after all? She rolls over and pushes herself into a sitting position, focusing her eyes on the last spot she saw Kanan in and, she is still there, splashing at the edge of the water where waves meet sand, like the most majestic Magikarp Dia’s ever seen.

‘’Kanan are you okay!?’’ The distress in Dia’s voice was strong.

When all Dia can hear is coughing, almost like someone dying she gets even more worried and scrambles on her arms and knees over to the mermaid.

Kanan stops splashing around, calming down slowly as she looks at Dia’s face. She inches closer slowly.

‘’I’m fine Dia,” she insists with a giggle, ”I couldn’t stop laughing my fins off when we both fell.”

Just the thought of it makes her laugh again and Dia almost swoons. A smile grows on her face and she shakes her head. Kanan seems okay and that relieves her, but the grainy texture and taste of salt and sea water still coats a bit of the inside of her mouth and she turns away from the mermaid to spit what remains back onto the ground where it belongs.

There’s a bigger splash and it causes Dia to turn around. She notices Kanan has pulled herself deeper into the water, not quite fully submerged. The dorsal fin and parts of the back of her tail rise from the wave as it settles over Kanan and she keeps herself upright with her forearms. It looks as if she’s pushing herself into the wave and she lets out a content sigh when she sees another coming her way. She’s distracted if only for a moment and then realizes she should probably get ready to set out to sea with her. She swallows a bit nervously.

“W-wait! Kanan don’t go too far yet!” She calls, pushing herself onto her feet and rushing back to the sand. She grabs the inflatable chair (or attempts, it takes her a solid two times to get a good hold of it thanks to the fall) and the paddle and heads back towards the waves. She silently prays they pumped the chair up with enough air to keep it afloat while she accompanies Kanan deeper into the waters.

Once Dia has everything in a solid grip she sprints as fast as her legs can take her towards the ocean in a Baywatch run, except less graceful as the chair almost slips from her grip and every step is a battle against gravity, and how Dia wishes she could just defy it like a green Idina Menzel. The struggle was real, yet she manages to reach the edge of the water with both the Britney Spears chair and the paddle without any more accidents.

Kanan swims freely in the shallow parts of the water close to the beach, keeping a close eye on her human friend and her Britney Spears chair. When Dia had made it somewhat properly into the water, sitting unsteady on her inflatable chair Kanan swims up to her, circling her like prey. Not that Kanan has any plans on eating Dia, but it isn’t too far off from looking like a Jaws parody.

It’s when Kanan bumps the chair playfully enough that Dia gets really unsteady, her paddling uncoordinated and more of a wild splashing with her arms as she wants to cry again. The mermaid’s like a playful sea puppy and Dia’s fearing for her life, yet she can’t stop the way her heart beats out of her chest at how cute Kanan is, even if said very heckin cute mermaid is about to commit involuntary manslaughter.

“Kanan! Stop- that’s unsafe!” Dia says as she slowly realizes the two of them are drifting into the ocean more and more. The dread sets in as all of Dia’s easy escapes from the waves are virtually gone. Soon she’s going to be all the way out in the middle of the ocean with nothing but a paddle and an inflatable chair to keep her company and then the chair will deflate and before she knows it she’ll be swimming for three days before she finally-

“AAH!” Dia screams as a large wave is splashed onto her and the cold shocks her to her core.

“Sorry! It was the only way to bring you back to me.” Kanan says, though the expression on her face is more like ‘you weren’t paying attention and I wanted to punish you for that.’ The expression is lost when she notices Dia looks a little.. pale.

“Dia? Are you okay?” she asks, lifting her hands up onto the plastic and holding onto the arm of the chair, “Did my splash scare you that much?”

The concern in Kanan’s voice is surprised and she look very apologetic. Her eyes give it all away— those beautiful eyes. Fuck, the setting sun just has to make them even prettier than they were before. Dia takes a deep breath before speaking.

“The truth is I didn’t bring all of this as a..protection thing.”

“Well, that was a little obvious.”

“What?!”

“I mean,” Kanan smiles lightheartedly and gestures to the tiny paddle, “A paddle like that will get you nowhere. Literally.”

Dia’s tempted to throw it at Kanan’s stupidly gorgeous face but opts not to, instead lifting her hands up to cover her face so Kanan can’t see the extremely ripe tomato she’s about to become. Would Kanan possibly believe she got sunburnt fast?

“Seriously though,” Kanan begins again and Dia peers through her fingers to look down at her. That piercing wine coloured gaze stares at her with worry, “What’s wrong Dia? Are you okay?”

And for some reason, the embarrassment floods away. Dia doesn’t feel as nervous about admitting the truth to her. She lowers her hands and diverts her gaze to the waves that reflect the light of the lowering sun.

“I… am not the best swimmer. That is to say I, Dia Kurosawa, cannot swim. I never really learnt how and I never thought I would really need to. A little silly, when you see what kind of business my family owns and runs and-”

“Is that all?!” Kanan asks a little bewildered, cutting the brunette off from her rambling.

“Wha-” Dia narrows her gaze, perplexed. “What do you mean ‘is that it’?! This is a big deal! We’re getting deeper and deeper and soon I won’t be able to-”

“Dia. Stay with me, okay?” Kanan puts a reassuring hand onto her wrist, smiling up at the nervous girl. “You just happen to be in the middle of the ocean with one of the worlds cryptic wonders who happens to be a very talented swimmer.”

Dia wants to scoff at Kanan’s attempt of a joke but instead she just frowns at the mermaid.

“I don’t see how that’s supposed to be reassuring. You’re the good swimmer here, not me.”

“What I mean is I can show you the basics. I’ve never taught a human how to swim before but I’ve seen them swimming numerous times. If you could slide into the water, I’ll show you what I mean.”

Kanan holds out her hand and looks at Dia with a gentle, inviting smile. She doesn’t remove her gaze from the nervous girl and there’s a calming aura about her— one completely different from the playful sea puppy like vibe she gave earlier. Dia doesn’t need to linger on the thought as she reaches her hand towards Kanan’s and slips it together with hers, trusting the mermaid and her words and shifting.

With a warm, excited smile Kanan holds out her other hand, gesturing for Dia to take that one as well. She does slowly, eyeing Kanan carefully. The mermaid pushes herself back a little, having to outstretch her arms alongside Dia just a bit. “I’ve got you, Dia. Slide off of the Britney Spears and into the water with me.”

Dia makes a sound of objection at Kanan’s statement but it’s nothing more than an offended sounding gasp as Kanan gives her a tiny tug forward and Dia slides into the cold water. She inhales sharply and just as the fear is setting in, Kanan squeezes her hands, bringing her back to the present and back to their current time.

“It’s okay Dia! You’re staying afloat and I’ve got you! I won’t let you drown!”

Dia’s fingers grip onto Kanan tightly and the mermaid continues to reassure her that she will be okay. She can’t think about much as Kanan instructs and guides her to kick her legs ever so slightly. when she does her body lifts and Kanan swims backwards just a bit, still holding onto her hands.

“I won’t let go- keep kicking! This is how humans do it to move forward!”

“I-I understood that!” Dia retorts flustered, but doing as told. She kicks her feet and proceeds to move forward, but not on her own. Kanan swims backward with each movement Dia makes forward. It’s nice and it’s good and Dia hates to admit how this one on one lesson with the mermaid has made swimming much easier for her.

They swim like this for a bit, Kanan guiding Dia and moving them around the water. The more Dia gets used to holding Kanan’s hands, the less she wants to let go. She’s completely content to stay here if it meant holding onto the hand of the most beautiful being in the world. Kanan’s smile is soft and Dia can’t help but return it.

It’s then Kanan pulls Dia close, letting go of her hands very briefly and instead wrapping her arms around the form of the other girl, pulling her close and hugging her tight. Dia blinks in surprise but doesn’t object to the motion, only taking in the fact that she can feel the contrast of soft skin and scales against her. They feel just like a sharks, they’re rough one way, yet smooth when she brushes her hand the other way. She blushes slightly, holding onto Kanan in return.

“Dia, I wanted to thank you. For everything you’ve done.” Kanan begins in a soft voice, her arms wrapped around Dia. “You risked a lot to help me get back home and without you I really couldn’t have done it.”

Dia pulls away enough to meet Kanan’s gaze and she feels like she could melt. The silence is prolonged and Dia decides to speak.

“It’s nothing Kanan. It really isn’t.” She replies in an equally soft tone. “When I saw you I couldn’t just… let you stay there. You needed to be back here- back where it’s safest for you. As much as I would love to see you all the time, it wouldn’t be right for anyone to keep you locked away in some kind of aquarium tank or boat bay or.. or anything where you’re not free.”

Kanan’s gaze softens a bit and she smiles. There’s a playful glint in her eye and she lifts one of her hands up, brushing some wet strands of hair behind Dia’s ear. Dia almost leans into the touch of her hand but resists.

“Did you know that humans have interesting tales about the magical properties of a mermaid’s tear?” Kanan asks, keeping her eyes on Dia.

Dia blinks and shakes her head.

“No- not at all.” She admits honestly.

“Well- it’s a myth. Mermaid’s tears have no more magic than the tears of a human.” She explains, but leans her face a bit closer to her. “However they aren’t too far off. Mermaids do have something magical about them, but it’s not our tears.”

Dia is a bit perplexed and before she can ask Kanan what it is, Kanan’s arm falls and she pulls Dia close and without warning, she pulls the girl underwater. Dia’s scream is muffled, but not by water rushing into her lungs. Her eyes are screwed shut and she’s very much aware of something soft pressing to her lips.

She opens her eyes once the presence leaves and without thinking about it she inhales the sea water. Her hands shoot up to her mouth out of reflex but it’s only then she realizes that she isn’t choking. She looks to Kanan -who stays only inches away from her- and notices the tiny blush on her cheeks and the crooked grin on her face.

“A mermaid’s kiss can do many things, like giving a human the ability to breathe underwater for a small period of time.” She says, lifting her hands up to Dia’s cheeks and holding her face gently in the palms of her hands. “And this will be my gift to you, so we can enjoy our swim together for just a little bit longer. ”

Dia’s heart flips and she smiles as she moves her hand to find Kanan’s, intertwining their fingers together and letting the mermaid pull her along underneath the water’s surface.

#Love Live! Sunshine!!#Kanan Matsuura #Dia Kurosawa #KanaDia #love live sunshine #love live! school idol festival #Kanan #Dia #nox writes #Did Dia drown? we just dont know.#this is the first time I write fanfic be gentle

45 notes · View notes

alexiela73 · 7 years ago

Note

Hihi i dont know if ur requests are open or not but if they aren't you could just ignore this. Buuuutt could u write some comfy cuddle time with reaper and mccree cuz Ive just had a terrible one sided fight with my dad (him basically screaming at me and hes probably kicking me out lol) and i need fluff

I’m sorry, sweetheart, and I’m also sorry it had to take a few days. I still hope this makes you feel a bit better.

Reaper:

Sitting in his office, Reaper hadn’t noticed how late it was getting till a wave of exhaustion hit him, and a wave forced itself from between his lips. Glancing at the clock, he was surprised to find it was almost midnight, and that he had been there most of the day.

Time had gone by quickly, he mused, having dealt with much paperwork and having to go and help out in the hangar today. It had been training lessons and some interesting ones at that. Half of his trainees were in the medical bay getting patched up by their strange doctor, Moira. Although he rather hated her, Moira was always happy when bullet victims ended up on her table.

With a sigh, Reaper got up and readied to go home. Today had been your day to yourself, not having been feeling all that good this morning. Although no one would think it, Reaper usually preferred to stay home and discretely take care of you. Usually he pretended it was for his own gain, but he’d make you food and make sure you took your medicine on time.

So honestly, it surprised him more that he hadn’t kept track of the time. A pang filled his chest as he realized he was still worried about how you were doing, and thought about calling.

But it would take 10 minutes. So he didn’t call, just heading home in a hurry, wanting to see you.

When he arrived, only the living room was on and you were watching Beauty and the Omnic on TV. Wrapped in blankets, you were staring intently at the screen, a tissue box tucked between you and the cushions

Reaper rolled his eyes but turned on the hallway light, surprising you as he took off his boots. “Gabe!” you gasped happily from the living room. “I was wondering when you’d come home. I missed you,” you said with a pout.

Only grunting in response, Reaper walked over and paused, before pressing a claw against your forehead. Christ, but you were so warm. And yet he could see the barest shiver in you when the blanket fell from your shoulders.

“Did you take your medicine today?” Reaper asked instead, brushing the hair from your face briefly before going into the kitchen

Immediately he started to rustle up a sandwich, some water and bottle of Vix and cough syrup. It was habit by now for him to try to take care of you, even though he tried to pretend to be tough and uncaring. In the end, hearing you say ‘I love you’ made him really happy.

Wincing, you pulled the blanket up to your nose a bit shyly, your head a feeling a bit heavy. “Um…well…I mean, I did this morning…before you left…” you said shyly, and both of you know how you hate cough syrup.

With a sigh, Reaper walked back into the living room with his load and stopped beside you at the couch. “I doubt you ate a decent dinner either,” he growled, confirmed by you avoiding eye contact. “Take your medicine and then eat.”

With a pout, you put the food and drink beside you, turning your head away. “Gabe-” you started to say, but he was already pouring liquid into a little spoon.

“Open,” he commanded, and with a grimace you gingerly swallowed the medicine, making a face at its mixed, lingering taste of sour and bitter. It felt weird on your through always and you always had the need to spit into the sink after, but you just chugged a mouthful of water.

Once satisfied that you were medicated, he crouched and rubbed the soothing cream on your throat, meant to seep into your skin and help sooth the muscles and possibly open your nasal passages.

“You take such good care of me,” you said with an impish smile, liking the cold of the cream being slathered on your skin. “What would I do without you?”

A smile touched his lips, and once finished he put his mask on a table. “Probably die,” he grunted, before taking a seat beside you on the couch.

Hesitating, you instantly wanted to be on him. “…Is it okay if we cuddle?” you asked shyly, not wanting to crowd him. It was best to ask him, because some days Reaper felt so haunted that he couldn’t handle touch.

Waiting a moment, Reaper nodded and opened his arm. Snuggled in your blanket, you inched over and pressed to his side, letting out a sigh as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I love you, you know,” you said again, smiling up at him adorably.

Refusing to look at you, Reaper silently pet your hair for a moment or two, before letting out a long, exaggerated sigh.

“I love you too.”

McCree:

After a bit of a wild morning, Jesse was looking for some down time back in the apartment the two of you shared. It was cozy, rather simple looking, and all he wanted to do was nap.

Except, today you were home, and Jesse couldn’t fall asleep as you walked in and out of the room. You weren’t purposely trying to wake him: this was your only day to get chores done, and so many things needed to get finished. The laundry, the dishes, the plants needed watering, the rugs needed a vacuum…

Usually Jesse would help you with these things, but you had taken one look at him when he’d come home after a short mission and told him to go to bed. Without a second thought, Jesse had followed your orders and stripped down to his breeches and a t-shirt before climbing into bed.

But he was too aware of you moving in the house to sleep. Well, that and he really needed some cuddling.

The question was how to make you stop working and instead get into bed with him for a early afternoon nap…

“Y/n,” Jesse called, voice sounding exhausted. Rolling over so he faced the door, he leaned on his elbow so that he could take a better look. The room already looked cleaner, the laundry in the dryer now and the bedroom already having been vacuumed. You worked so hard on your days off…

Stepping in, you paused with a pile of books on your hip. “Yes?” you asked with an amused smile. You liked how his mop of brown hair was always disheveled once he was in bed, whether it was from sleeping or sex or just putting his head for a second. It was always rather cute.

Jesse let out a pout. “Take a nap with me?” he asked hopefully.

“No, Jesse,” you laughed. “I have to get all of this done. Oh, I’m sorry I’m keeping you up, honey. Do you want me to close the door now?”

Jesse looked sulky. “No, I want you in my bed, darlin’. You’ve been up since this morning. Why not take a break? Cuddle with me?” he said, wanting to hold you in his arms. It was the easiest way for him to drift off, holding you always giving him a relaxing feeling.

“Jesse, I really…” you started, but your cowboy looked so tired and hopeful, and honestly you were rather sleepy too after such an unnecessary early start. It would feel so nice to be wrapped in his arms under the sheets…

After a moment, you sighed in defeat and Jesse’s eyes lit up.

“Okay, but only for a hour or two, alright?” you said gently, and put on an alarm on your phone. “I still have a lot of cleaning to do and dinner to make-” you said as you headed over, but his hand catching your wrist shut you up.

Pulling you gently into bed, Jesse wrapped the comforter around you before pressing to your back. You loved it when he spooned you, loved how his arms cradled you close and his face pressed into your hair.

“Just relax, okay darlin’? When you relax, I relax,” Jesse said softly, holding you and his eyes closed. Already just feeling you there was soothing him.

Eyes softening, you sighed and let your muscles go loose and already your body felt tranquil. “Okay, cowboy. I love you, silly man,” you said softly, turning to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“I…” he mumbled, his lips barely moving. He was always able to fall so quickly asleep when the circumstances were right. “lo……y……”

The soft mumble made you smile, and resting your head on his arm, you closed your eyes and found yourself drifting off as easily as him. The two of you lay cuddled together for the afternoon nap, snuggly and happy and content.

#Reaper #Reaper x Reader #Reaper Overwatch #Reaper Headcanon #Gabriel Reyes #Gabriel Reyes x Reader #McCree #McCree x Reader #McCree Overwatch #McCree Headcanon #Jesse McCree #Jesse McCree x Reader #Overwatch #Overwatch Imagines #Overwatch Stories #Overwatch Writings #Overwatch x Reader #Overwatch Headcanon

208 notes · View notes

feverhalo · 7 years ago

Text

Prompt time for sure!

taylor-tut said: YASS prompt time! How about some feverish Lance who has ridiculous chills and is complaining all through debriefing, irritating everyone else. As soon as debriefing is over, Pidge goes back to her room. Lance knocks on her door shivering and delirious outside her room, hoping that she might have a heated blanket.

This prompt lowkey wrecked me to read because poor lance but absolutely yes. Hope I did it justice. just dont ask about the title because i dont know either

Brain Freeze

"And now we've got that trading route back open for them, they're more than willing to spread the word of Voltron around. It was a pretty simple fare." Keith shrugged as he wrapped up his comment.

"Yeah, straight forward and everything-" Lance shuddered, "Can we be done now, please? I'm freezing. Still. Still freezing."

"Yeah, Lance, we know." Hunk sighed. "I'm sorry man, I just don't think it was that simple. That seems fishy to me."

"It was that simple. I really don't know why you think is wasn't," Keith crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Allura paced at the head of the table and tapped her chin.

"I think Hunk may be right," Lance groaned out loud. Allura shot him a glare and continued on, "It wouldn't make sense for them to send that level of distress signal for what sounds like it ended up being a construction job. It doesn't make sense, they had the technology to do so themselves."

"Its almost like it was a hijacked signal, or like someone told them to downplay it." Pidge pulled out a sheet of paper and started drawing a hurried map out. Lance had another shiver rip through him and clenched his teeth together to try and quiet the chattering. He still leaned over to watch Pidge draw out their idea even though he wanted to walk out and curl up under every blanket he could find.

"The original signal came from here, right? And we were led all the way over here, to unplug a mountain hole-" "Excavate," Hunk provided.

"Right, to excavate. But you said the signal level was like, what a level 3? Which was something like political kidnapping or unrest or something. Its almost like this was a distraction."

"Dis-di-distraction, huh?" Lance stuttered out, "Distrac-actions suck, h-huh?"

"Be more subtle, why don't you." Keith rolled his eyes again. Lance put his head down and groaned. His leg shook of its own accord, and the headache he had been trying to push out of his awareness bloomed to full force again.

"Give it a rest, all of you. I'm with Keith, it seemed straightforward to me. But, Hunk, you may be on to something there. I'm thinking we make some space, but keep tuned in on the area, just to see if anything crops up again, and in a day or two make a surprise visit. If it was straight forward, then no harm no foul- but if something more sinister is going on we can surprise them before they can suppress the issue from us." Shiro cut in.

"I'll look at the data logs and see if I can pinpoint anything else that seems off. Maybe look into more of the geography of the area. Hunk, do you think you could help me make something to figure it out? Kind of like an internet tracer, see if they've got something to mask anything else or maybe crossed wires somewhere?"

"Yeah, sure- though you even said the original signal came from somewhere else..."

"I'm not helpf-ful with this part, can I go? Seriously, I n-need a h-h-h-hot shower or something. I really d-don't feel good." Lance asked over Hunk and Pidge's side conversation.

"Just," Shiro sighed, "Can you wait another fifteen minutes Lance? We're almost done."

"You said that half an hou-" Lance faltered as he shuddered with such a force he nearly bit his tongue. "Half an hour ago."

"Okay, go warm up. Make sure you take some medicine, alright?" Lance nodded sloppily before he left the others to continue debriefing.

Forty minutes later, Lance heard Pidge's door open and shut from where he curled himself up in a corner with three thick blankets and every sweater he owned. He still shook with the chill settled over him. Even his breath was shuddering with the force of them.

His head was swimming, but he knew he'd freeze to death if he didn't get something more. It was way too cold on this planet. It had to be where they parked the castle- the cold seeped in and coated everything with a biting layer of ice. He should have kept his armor on, it would regulate it, but he forgot where he left it after getting back.

Lance dragged himself to standing despite the trembling and shuffled himself across the floor. The cold bit through his sock and he lamented the loss of his other slipper under the bed. It was gone now, he couldn't get it wrapped up as much as he was. He blinked his eyes open as wide as he could to clear the dark spots that cropped up when he stood. He needed to be able to watch for any patches of slick ice. So far it seemed to have enough texture to it that he didn't slip, but it was still getting colder.

He leaned against the wall as he shuffled to Pidge's door. It wasn't far to walk, but it exhausted Lance so fully he was nearly ready to sit on the floor. He knocked on the metal door with a hand fisted in blankets. It was muffled, but did the job as it slid to the side to show Pidge.

"Lance? G-"

"P-pidge! You need t-to put your armor back on!" Lance gaped, Pidge had changed out of the protection of the armor into their cargo shorts and a t-shirt. Lance's heart raced, they'd freeze. Pidge was going to get frost bite if they didn't put something warm on soon.

"What? Did Allura call everyone again? I didn't hear- wow Lance, are you okay?" Pidge frowned and leaned in close. They stared up at Lance's pallid face, taking in the dark shadows around his eyes and the contrasting red high on his cheeks. "You look like hell."

"Do you have a heat-heated blanket?" Lance slowly closed his eyes and held them shut. Here he was asking for another blanket, and Pidge was running around in shorts. "Y-you should use it. Something's wrong with the castle- all the cold is getting in."

"Cold getting in?" Pidge pulled on Lance's arm. They tugged at him to bring him inside to sit down on the bed. He was shaking so hard it looked like he'd fall over. "I have one, wait here, okay?"

"I'll share. I-" Lance swallowed hard. He was getting a lump in his throat- this was too much to ask. He should be fine with his blankets. Pidge was so much smaller and would lose more heat than him. "Well, I mean its yours, so if you're okay with taking-"

"Stop talking, Lance." He opened his eyes to see Pidge standing there with a stiff looking bundle of fabric with a long white cord, and a thermometer in their hand. "I'll plug it in, but it needs a minute to warm up."

"Thank you-!" Lance's eyes watered. It stung and made the lump in his throat so much harder to talk around.

"Its no problem," Pidge's voice softened and they put their hand on the top of Lance's head as they walked by to plug in the blanket. They stepped up onto the bed and sat cross-legged beside lance and fiddled with the cover of the thermometer. "Why is the castle broken?"

"The c-cold of outside is getting in. All that snow is probably in the airlock now." Lance sniffled back his tears. A few still ran hot tracks down his face. Pidge leaned forward and tucked Lance's hair behind his ear while he talked, "You- snnf - its so cold, you'll get frostbite."

"One sec, I'm going to put this in your ear, okay?" Lance'd breath shuddered with another strong chill, but he nodded all the same. He crinkled his nose at the weird sensation of the plastic probe in his ear, but Pidge's hand smoothed his hair and their thumb kept up a constant, comforting rub just behind his ear. The short beep of the device starting seemed too loud, but Lance sat as still as he could.

After a minute, it trilled three beeps in quick succession and Pidge pulled it out to look at it. The blanket gave a beep as well, and with a distracted hand Pidge picked it up and passed it over to Lance. Pidge bit their thumb nail; the thermometer read Lance's temperature at 103.5 and they had a hard time deciding on the right call to make.

"Shit, Lance," Pidge's voice broke and Lance looked at them. He tried to figure out why they looked so sad. "The castle is broken?" His heart sank, that had to be why.

"No, the castle is okay. I think I need to go get Shiro, will you stay here?" Lance spun his head around so fast Pidge expected to hear a crack.

"You can't! Its too cold." His eyes were so wide Pidge leaned back in shock. "I don't want you to get hurt." "I won't, I promise. Shiro can help fix it." Not a lie, he had more experience at this sort of thing. Lance was shaking the blankets until he freed a hand. He grabbed onto Pidge's arm with a hand so unbelievably warm. They looked at him, and his eyes were practically spilling over again.

"Give me two minutes, okay? I'll stay, I want to get you something to drink. I'm just going to my bathroom, okay?" Lance nodded, but Pidge still had to give a good tug to get their arm free. They came back with a cup of water and some of the painkillers they had stocked up. Chemically ibiprophen, called something they couldn't pronounce, and branded under another planet's language. "Here, drink it and take these, it'll help. You're going to get sore from shaking so much."

"P-pidge," Lance shut his eyes while he tried to regain his composure. He felt so stressed. "Okay, thank you." Pidge watched him take the medicine and he drank the whole cup without needing them to prod at him. Pidge really hoped he hadn't taken any earlier, but if he had it hadn't worked.

"Oh! You're going to get too cold, Pidge-" Lance whined. He struggled with his blankets, trying to free one to give to Pidge.

"I'll be ok Lance, I'm not cold. See," they made Lance touch their arm to try and ease his worry. Lance shuddered again, though Pidge couldn't tell if it was the fever or emotions he was fighting with. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'd feel better if I knew you won't freeze. Did you call Shiro? You said he'd fix the castle." Lance's eyes drooped. He was still wracked with shivers, but all the worry and activity caught up and his energy flagged.

"I'll text him." Pidge leaned back against the wall on their bed beside Lance. They typed out a quick message. 'Lance is really sick, thinks the castle broke. Pls come help, he needs you to 'fix' it.' Pidge let out a breath, and Lance leaned back on the wall with them. "Here."

Lance looked over, slowly, and saw Pidge with their arm held out. He started with a panic, before recalling what Pidge said. Shiro was going to fix it. They weren't cold yet. It would be okay.

"Do you wan't this now?" His voice was less halting and stuttered now, the warmth had finally sunk into his bones and fought off some of the chill and the fatigue had started to overpower him. He still shook, but not nearly as violently.

"No, you keep that. Lean on me, it'll help you warm up."

"And keep you warm too." Lance sniffled again. Pidge rolled their eyes, but it was lost on Lance who flopped into Pidge's shoulder. Pidge pushed the blankets down off of Lance's shoulder and rubbed their hand up and down his feverish arm- the heat even seeping through the layers of sweaters he had on. He laid on their shoulder and tried to fight off the exhaustion. Pidge felt him tense and relax in intervals and switched to running a hand through his hair to keep him relaxed until he dropped off to sleep.

#fh fic #sick lance #voltron sickfic #lance and pidge bonding times #(i wrote it as platonic but if u a shipper go ham)#get- uh get it? the title #yeah me neither #i should practice doing titles more #im gonna put them on ao3 in a day or 2 under the same titles

158 notes · View notes

narisjournal-blog · 7 years ago

Text

A Lot To Learn (Part 2): I Fell to Pieces

A LOT TO LEARN MASTERLIST

Chuck x Reader Fobwatch AU Word Count: 1,556

Chuck has a secret that even he doesn’t know. But you do. And you are sworn to protect him and keep his secret safe inside a fobwatch necklace you keep with you at all times.

Dealing with the aftermath of a prophetic seizure isn’t fun. Chuck struggles to function. Luckily he has you to take care of him and support him as he prepares to face what was written.

Warnings: Mostly domestic fluff, but a poorly Chuck. You will probably have a strong urge to cuddle him. So if you can handle that, read on.

***

Chuck felt himself spinning, gliding through the universe faster than he could think. But even so, he felt right. It felt like where he was supposed to be. He could see planets spinning gloriously through space, stars bowing to his command as they shone in the night sky that hung over the Earth.

Their brightness grew and grew and it became too much. The light scratched across the inside of his eyelids and pounded in his head.

He awoke feverish and in pain.

Chuck groaned. His temples throbbed and his neck was stiff, pain travelling all the way down to his shoulders. He flinched against the bright light that stuck to his vision as though he had been looking into the sun itself.

Light seeped through the crack in the drapes but even the small amount it gave was too much. He closed his eyes and covered them with his hand. He massaged small circles around his aching eyeballs.

Peeking through his fingers, he found the tablets he knew would be there, feeling around on the side before they were in his grasp. He swallowed two and chased them with water.

He rolled back over and buried his head under the pillow. He noticed the intoxicating smell of your perfume on the sheets as he slid back into unconsciousness.

***

A few hours later, Chuck blinked awake. He felt rough but better. The room span as he sat himself up and he rubbed at his eyes to clear them.

He could see now, but his head still throbbed. He eyed the box of tablets still on the side. He had no idea how long ago he had taken them.

And then his thoughts drifted once more to you.

He could hear you shuffling around downstairs and he smiled. Where would he be without you?

He took the stairs slowly, running his hands through his messy curls. His robe hung limply, sliding off his shoulders and catching in the crooks of his elbows; he didn’t care to correct it.

As he approached the kitchen he had to stop and cover his eyes again. That was the one light you had left on.

‘Chuck?’ You called when you heard him. He groaned. ‘Honey?’

You realised what was wrong and flipped off the light.

He sighed with relief.

'Thanks.’ He continued to shuffle into the room and slumped down into one of the chairs at the table.

'Morning,’ you smiled. 'How’s your head?’ He only groaned again. 'Hungry?’

Chuck rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. 'Yeah,’ he said simply.

You pushed the bread you had ready down in the toaster and hummed to yourself as you got the Butter from the fridge.

Chuck blinked, his eyes now focussing on you as you moved about.

You wore some of his pyjama pants and his burgundy hoodie zipped up about a third of the way over your vest top. One of the shoulders had slid down because it was a little on the big side and he realised how incredibly cute you looked. You glanced over to see that adorable slanted smile he did when he thought you didn’t notice.

Before he had time to admire the rest of you, the strong smell of ground beans hit his nose.

'Is that coffee?’ He asked.

'Mmm,’ you said. 'No no. Water first.’ You filled a glass and set it in front of him. He drained the glass gratefully. You took it back from him and refilled it.

'Drink this one slowly.’

He nodded and did as you said, nursing the glass as though it were sacred medicine.

His vulnerability struck you again and he caught you watching him.

'I know. It’s a pathetic sight, right?’

You laughed. 'No. Humbling,’ you corrected. He tilted his head, but before he could question you, the toast popped up and you moved to get it.

'That smells amazing,’ Chuck remarked, then took another sip of his water.

'Carbohydrate,’ you said, smiling back at him over your shoulder while you spread the butter.

You sliced it into triangles and set it in front of him. You spread another two pieces that had popped up in the meantime and sat down opposite him at the table.

Chuck ate his toast, closing his eyes and savouring as if it was the first thing he’d eaten in weeks.

'Thank you,’ he said once he finished his mouthful. 'Honestly, I… you’re so good to me.’

'Ha,’ you said. 'What if it’s all an act?’ You bit into your toast not meeting his eyes.

Chuck considered this as he chewed more toast.

'One of these days I’m gonna come down and find you’ve robbed me, aren’t I?’

You laughed. 'Seriously?’ You looked around the run down house with its sparse and worn-out contents. 'What am I gonna rob, Chuck?’

He shrugged. 'Or I’ll be in a bath of ice, minus my kidneys.’

You made a show at considering. 'They would go for a nice sum on the black market. But trust me,’ you said, pointing at him with a corner of toast. 'You have more valuable assets than your body.’ You raised your eyebrow pointedly.

Just as he was about to make a joke about being super cute, his eyes fell on the laptop that sat beside him on the table. He paused, his toast half way to his mouth.

'What does it say?’ He said, flicking his eyes to you cautiously.

You shook your head. 'That’s not my place, Chuck. It’s your words. I left them for you.’

He smiled. 'You know I love you, right?’

'I love you too. I’m right here. Whatever you need.’

He finished his toast in silence, then cleared his throat.

'That coffee would be nice, please,’ he said, running his hand over his beard. His other hand hovered over the laptop.

'Coming right up,’ you said, clearing up the plates and heading to the coffee machine.

He found his glasses that you had left on the table for him and slid them on. When he opened the screen, the document took a moment to load. He flinched slightly at the brightness of the white, but his eyes soon adjusted.

And there it was. The latest prophecy. He sighed and began to read.

As his eyes darted back and forth, chin resting on his hand, you placed his black coffee in front of him. You stood with your hand on his shoulder and read it with him.

You absent-mindedly brushed your fingers over the grooves and patterns in the locket at your chest. The pads of your fingers moved over the smooth glass of the watch face through the fabric of your vest. It a was comforting action.

As you read, relief flooded you. This was ok. Sam and Dean could handle it. Chuck had no part in this play. For now. You could feel the tension seep out of the man beside you as well. He looked back at you and slid his hand into the small of your back, pulling you gently closer.

You took the hint and sat down on his knee, your arm around his shoulder as you both read the remainder of the prophecy.

The final paragraph made your heart pound in your chest. Castiel was looking for God. Or would be soon.

This was not good. Castiel was a stubborn angel and he really needed his father right now.

The locket seemed heavier all of a sudden, its presence weighing down like guilt on your chest. You clutched it in your hand and inhaled deeply.

The weight hung around your neck was leaving an ever larger absence in the universe.

You cleared your throat. 'How much do you know about this amulet Castiel mentions?’

'Mmm?’

'Does it… work? I mean, does it really burn bright in the presence of God?’ You realised you were gripping his shoulder much tighter than was necessary and let go.

He only shrugged. 'You would think so. I remember it actually. Dean was wearing it when they were here.’

You exhaled slowly, understanding. 'Really?’ You tried to sound casually interested.

'Yeah. I remember being a little fixated. It was an ugly thing. I realised it must have meant a lot to him for him to wear it.’ He laughed and you relaxed.

Chuck was safe. For now.

'Come on,’ you said, squeezing his shoulder. 'Fresh air is what you need. It’s noon.’

'Mmm hey could you rub my neck? It’s still a little stiff.’

You sighed and stood up, obliging his request. You pushed into the hard knots you found with your thumbs.

Without thinking, your chest pressed against his back and a judder ran through his body.

'Oh God,’ he gasped. 'Whatever you hit there… it’s like it’s connected to everything.’

You flinched and closed your eyes, realising what you’d done. You continued to rub, knowing what was about to happen.

He flexed his shoulders and rolled his neck.

'It’s literally gone. The pain is just gone,’ he remarked, dumbfounded. He turned to look at you just as you opened your eyes to regain your composure.

'You must have a healing touch,’ he grinned.

You smiled guiltily.

'I guess I have.’

***

If you want to be added to a tag list, just drop me an ask or a comment! Please keep reblogging and giving me feedback :)

Tags:

Everything list: @quixoticcat @afanofmanystuffs @trashforwinchesters @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend @featheredluci @natasha-cole @greenappleeyes

Rob/chuck list: @tas898 @destielschild @girl-next-door-writes @nekodresden85 @winchestergirl-13 @a-banana-for-your-thoughts @jelly-beans-and-gstrings

A lot to learn: @dont-hate-relate-pls

#chuck x reader #chuck shurley #chuck shurley x reader #chuck shurley fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #chuck x you #Chuck shurley x you

30 notes · View notes

casper-has-a-cat · 7 years ago

Text

this is a prompt fill from way back when i had haikyuusickfics! from here on out i’ll be reposting anything i have saved on my computer from my blogs that got deleted. i’ll be tagging them with ‘old writing,’ and i’ll release them in a queue once a day! i may wait until all of the old ones are posted again to post fills to new asks, but i’d like to get to working on them in advance, so feel free to send stuff to my inbox!

as far as what to send: honestly, feel free to send whatever, as long as it’s not NSFW, but just know that if i don’t feel like filling it, i just won’t. the more detail you put into an ask, the more likely i’ll want to fill it. try to convince me of why the scenario appeals to you, and it will make me much more likely to fill it!

ANYWAY! here’s a very old fill

WARNING: descriptions of vomit below!

read the warning!

okay, you’ve been warned! please enjoy the fic!

When Suga’s phone rang, he answered without looking to see who it was. He’d assumed it was Daichi. He was correct. However, he also assumed that his friend had called to ask a question about their homework or to get Suga’s opinion on how to strategize against their next opponent in volleyball, and in that regard, he was completely wrong.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Suga, do you have any Ibuprofen?”

“Daichi? You have a headache? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not a bad one. I probably won’t even need the medicine, I just want to have it in case it gets worse.”

Suga pursed his lips. It was unusual for Daichi to ask for help for anything, even less for him to be unprepared, and almost unheard of for him to admit he was in pain if it wasn’t unbearable. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Daichi made an exasperated noise on the other end of the line and Suga could have kicked himself. “I’m fine, honestly, Suga. Actually, I’m not even sure why I called, it’s really not a bit deal. Never-“

“Alright, I’ll be over there with the medicine in 20. Just relax until I get there, okay?”

Daichi sighed, but Suga hung up before he could tell him not to go overboard. He was definitely going to go overboard.

Precisely 20 minutes later Suga was knocking on Daichi’s door with an armful of not only Ibuprofen, but also Tylenol, soup, and tea. Nobody responded, which was strange and fairly concerning. Suga pulled out his phone to text Daichi only to see that he’d already received multiple texts from him.

From: Daichi

7 minutes ago

I found some ibuprofen

5 minutes ago

you don’t have to come

2 minutes ago

sriously suga dont come

2 minutes ago

m fine.

Suga read the texts through twice, eyeing the deterioration of Daichi’s punctuation and feeling his heart sink more with every mistake. Maybe he was paranoid, but something felt off. In the end, it was Daichi’s use of a period in the last text that did it. Daichi never used periods when texting.

Without further ado, Suga grabbed the spare key Daichi had given him and let himself in, despite the warning that had come along with the key: “If you abuse it, you lose it.” Suga thought this may be something worth losing it for.

He poked his head in the door.

“Hello?” When nobody responded, he stepped inside, if only to dump the groceries on the ground to relieve his arms. The house was quiet, and dark, but Suga could hear the sound of the television playing softly coming from upstairs. He followed the noise, and, unsurprisingly, it led him to Daichi’s room. He raised his hand to knock, but thought better of it when he noticed that Daichi’s room was dark, and wondered if maybe Daichi’s headache had gotten worse. Instead of knocking, he opened the door as quietly as possible.

Sure enough, Daichi was laying curled up on his bed. However, rather than holding his head as Suga had expected, he was clutching pitifully at his stomach. He opened the door wider and it creaked enough to get Daichi’s attention. He rolled over to face the door with effort.

“Suga? Didn’t you-“ Daichi sucked in a sharp, pained breath. He released it slowly. “Didn’t you get my texts?”

“Mhm.”

“So why’d you come?”

“Had a hunch something was wrong.” Suga walked over and sat down on the side of the bed. “I was right.”

Daichi shifted so that his friend could lie down, too, but instead of relaxing, Suga pried Daichi’s hands away from his abdomen.

“Honestly, I’m fi-“ Daichi had only begun to say he was fine when Suga started massaging his stomach. Daichi shuddered, and at first Suga thought maybe he’d made things worse, but then he saw the tension flow out of his shoulders. Suga smiled innocently.

“What was that? You want me to leave?”

“Ugh, Suga, what the heck? ‘re you’re hands magic or something?”

“Or something.” He massaged Daichi’s stomach as he spoke. “So what happened? I thought you had a headache?”

“Yeah, but really, it wasn’t that bad. Not a migraine, at least. I took the Ibuprofen just in case, but then my stomach started to act up.”

Suga winced. “Act up how, exactly?”

“Just, y’know, cramps and stuff.”

“Yeah, it’s the “and stuff” that I’m worried about. Do you feel sick at all?” At the mere mention of being sick Daichi paled. Suga nodded. “I’m going to take that as a yes. Man, I think you may have caught the stomach bug that’s been going around.”

Daichi groaned and Suga cast him a sympathetic glance in response. “Anyway, maybe it won’t be too bad. If the belly rubs are helping, that’s a good sign.”

Daichi grunted as his eyes drifted shut, but moments later drowzily opened them again, blinking slowly. Suga chuckled.

“Stop that,” he laughed.

“Hm?” Daichi mumbled.

“Don’t try and stay awake, you should be sleeping this off.”

“But you’re-“

“I’m here, and I’ll stay here whether you’re sleeping or not. Jeez. Close you’re eyes already.”

Daichi frowned, but did as he was told. Moments later, Suga felt the tension leave his friend’s body and he knew he was asleep. He smiled, and continued rubbing Daichi’s stomach.

They stayed that way for so long that both of Suga’s feet fell asleep, but he didn’t mind. He was glad Daichi was resting. Unfortunately, it didn’t last forever. Inevitably, Daichi woke up, and this he did with a distinctively nauseas gurgle. Suga started at the noise and his hands faltered momentarily.

“Dai?”

Daichi blinked his eyes slowly, confusion dominating his face. “Suga?” The sick boy swallowed convulsively and Suga noted the sweat now coating his face.

“Hey there, how are you feeling, kid?”

Daichi groaned, and the crease between Suga’s brows deepened.

“You gonna be sick?”

Daichi’s only response was a hiccup. He moaned and made a pitiful attempt at burrowing beneath the covers. Had he not been so concerned, Suga probably would have laughed at his friend’s antics. As it was, he couldn’t afford to waste time on humor. He tugged the covers away, just so he could see Daichi’s face.

“Seriously, Daichi, this is important. Do you feel like you’re gonna hurl?”

Daichi put a hand to his mouth as if even the thought of it made him want to barf, and that was response enough for Suga.

“Dammit, Daichi, you should’ve said sooner. Can you make it to the bathroom?”

Daichi’s shoulders hitched dramatically and Suga moved to grab the barf bucket even before his friend shook his head. In a valiant effort, Daichi suppressed three retches before bile made its way through his nose, splattering on the blankets before Suga had a chance to return. Nose now filled with the scent of sick, Daichi’s nausea more than doubled. He attempted to take a breath, but that was the last straw.

Fortunately, Suga arrived just in time to position the bowl under Daichi’s chin as the sick boy threw up. A small amount of clear bile splashed in first, but was immediately followed, without any time for Daichi to take a breath, by a forceful mixture of a burp and a heave that brought up a much more puke, this time brown and of a thicker consistency. Suga put a hand on Daichi’s shoulder to steady him when he lurched forward, and could feel him shaking. The large bowl was more than halfway full by the time Daichi was able to take a breath (a testament both to the speed with which the foul substance had exited Daichi’s body and to the length of time he’d been vomiting). However, even then he only got half a breath before he coughed loudly and was yet again unable to inhale. Another rush of sick filled his mouth. He shuddered and allowed it to exit his system. It splashed into the bowl, and some of it splashed out. Daichi wheezed, and Suga worried at how red his friend’s face was, not to mention how badly the boy was shaking. Suga helped Daichi lean back into his pillows.

“There you go, you feel any better?”

Daichi shook his head the tiniest bit and dizziness overwhelmed him. His stomach rolled. Suga held the bowl steady in his lap, but Daichi didn’t have an ounce of strength left to position himself over it.

“Daichi?” Suga sensed that something was off, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. Daichi knew that, and he tried to explain, but as soon as he opened his mouth it was filled with last night’s liquified dinner. This time it did not come up so quickly, rather in the form of a thin, steady stream. Daichi tucked his chin in and allowed it to spill onto his chest shirt.

“Oh, shit, Dai!” Suga helped him sit up so that Daichi was able to cough up the last few mouthfuls of bile into the bowl, but the damage had been done.

“I’m sorry,” Daichi rasped. “Suga, I’m so- hurk!” Daichi’s back muscles tightened beneath Suga’s palm. Suga hushed his friend.

“Sh, c’mon, Dai, it’s not a big deal. Here, let me help you…”

Suga expertly folded Daichi’s shirt in on itself so that he could lift it off without getting any of the vomit on Daichi. He threw the shirt in a trashcan and urged Daichi to his feet. He squeezed his friend’s hand tightly and looked him in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise. Do you believe me?”

Unsteady though he was, Daichi could see the confidence in Suga’s eyes, and a fiery message: I dare you to disagree. It was too soon, still for a smile, but he could manage a hand squeeze in return. Suga got the message.

“Good.” Suga brushed Daichi’s sweaty hair off of his forehead before guiding him to the bathroom. “Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

#tw vomit #old writing #my writing #haikyuu!!#sawamura daichi #sick daichi #sugawara koushi #cringe lol

5 notes · View notes

leftmyurlinmyotherpants · 7 years ago

Text

hi i wrote a thing “Why did it have to be this way?” ~ Albert

hi so yes this is really heavy and requires trigger warnings for death, self harm and suicide. if theres any warnings that i missed PLEASE tell me. i dont want to be that person who doesnt tag something that could really mess with someone’s day. i care about you guys a lot and would hate to do that. if i knew how to do the “continue reading” thing, i would do that. if anyone wants to let me know how to do that, that’d be awesome.

@timesarehardfornewsies (you asked to be tagged so here we go)

"She was always there when I needed someone. She was everything I ever wanted and needed but never what I deserved. She could have done so much better than me but she always stayed. No matter what. I was never able to provide her with anything more than a proper date every once and a while but she never thought it mattered. She was absolutely everything to me and I wouldn't be the man I am today if it weren’t for her presence in my life. I love you to death, sweetheart. I don’t understand why it had to be this way. Rest easy, beautiful, I’ll be seeing you soon.” Albert said as he stepped down from the podium and walked around the altar. He stops by the love of his life’s casket and completely breaks down. Tears begin to pour from his already red, puffy eyes and continue to follow the stains left down his face from the past few days and the event that brought this about. He leans his head against the head of the casket for a split second before mumbling a quick “I love you baby” before hugging her family and returning to his seat next to Race, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders before the priest continued with the final blessing.

She was gripping the bathroom sink with such grip that made her knuckles go white. She couldn’t find a way to get out of her own head. She lost control. Not even the boy who is normally able to bring her out of any funk she’s in or be able to just let her get it out of her system while still making sure she knew he was there for her. Taking her final message to him off the edge of the bathtub, she slips it under the locked bathroom door. She takes a deep breath before starting to run the bath water, hot. While that’s running, she begins to rummage through their shared medicine cabinet looking for anything strong enough to do damage. Spotting Albert’s pain medication from when he had broken his wrist the most recent time, she begins to realize what she is about to do. As she mentioned in her note, she knew that she couldn’t go back now.

She grabs the pain medication as well as her own prescriptions and empties the already nearly empty bottles into her hand. She stops the water before she begins swallowing the pills four at a time. She swallows the final few before shrugging off Albert’s sweater, after all, she wouldn’t want to stain it. She steps into the bath wearing her pajama shorts and a loose tank before taking the blade that she hid under her shampoo bottle into her hand.

One, two, three, four. She eventually lost count of the deep and painful slashes that she inflicted onto her wrists. She began to slip between consciousness and unconsciousness as she began to see memories playback behind closing eyelids. The good times with her family, the times with the boys, the first time she told Albert she loves him. Everything was flooding back and as soon as she felt the regret of what she was doing, it was already too late. What was going to inevitably happen is already setting in. She tries her hardest to scream out her help but nothing leaves her lips.

The only thing that left her lips were “I love you, Albert. I’m so sorry.” Little did she know, that would be the last thing to ever leave her lips.

Albert was banging on the door while she was slipping away. As soon as he gets in, he hears her final words. He runs to her and takes her out of the tub and tries to listen for a heartbeat but instead of getting more, he ended up hearing her last breath and the last time her heart, the heart that she knew only belonged to him, would ever beat. He called for an ambulance as he tried to keep her heart going until emergency services arrived.

Once the paramedics arrived, everything became a blur to him. He blindly followed along with everything and gave them all the information they required with a heavy heart, knowing that there would be nothing they can do for the girl who is...was his entire world.

The news came just as he figured it would. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” There was nothing anyone could say or do. He had lost his entire world, his entire reason to live. He lost everything he loved.

He forced himself to call her family and be the bearer of the news but hung up as soon as they knew. He wouldn’t be able to handle hearing them try to make sense of something he couldn’t even make sense of himself. He remained generally silent during the planning process, only breaking the silence to say that he and the boys are carrying the casket and that he wants to speak at the service.

The entire service remained mostly a blur. Even the eulogy he delivered was a blur. The only thing he remembered saying was that he will see her soon. He knew of a world where the pain would go away, where they could be free. He just wanted to be with the girl he loves more than life itself and he didn’t know what else to do. So he did the only thing he could think of doing: he followed in her footsteps.

He stayed with Race because it wasn’t a good idea to let him stay in the apartment where his world fell apart. He left a simple note on Race’s counter, explaining why he did what he was about to do and that he was sorry before retreating into the guest bedroom which had become his own over the past two weeks. He grabbed the pills he had accumulated over the past two weeks from Race more or less suicide-proofing the entire apartment to make sure his best friend wouldn’t do anything stupid.

If Albert ate (which he rarely did), Race wouldn’t let him cut it himself. If Albert needed any sort of medication for anything, Race administered it so he wouldn’t be able to do anything stupid. The one slip up was that Race left before Albert took the pills. Instead of taking them, he stashed them in a small box that he kept hidden between the bed and the bedside table. Race also made the mistake to allow Albert to shave on his own, which resulted in the redheaded boy breaking apart the razors until he was left with just the sharp slivers of metal that allowed for self-punishment.

Albert began to lose control once his hand wrapped around his little stash. Before he could catch up, he had already swallowed the twnety-some odd pills that he had accumulated and had already inflicted multiple gashes on his wrist with little to no remorse. He had started to slip out of consciousness when he heard the door to the apartment close. As his eyes shut, he saw Race on the phone.

Behind closed eyelids, he saw his girl standing in front of him. She looked as beautiful as ever and looked as inviting as she always had. He stepped closer to her but every step he took toward her, she backed away. He began to grow frustrated that he couldn’t hold her as Race’s voice began to invade his mind.

“Come on dude, wake up. You just gotta, they’re thinking about taking you off and I don’t think I’d be able to handle that. Albert, she wouldn’t have wanted this. We love you here, Al. You can’t do this to us, you can’t do this to me. I can’t handle losing another brother.” Race pleads, gripping Albert’s hand before eventually breaking down into tears. It’s true. Doctors weren’t expecting him to wake up from this. He has been in this coma for nearly three weeks and never showed signs of improvement.

“Albert, baby, you can’t leave them just yet. Keep going for me.” His girlfriend’s voice took the place of Race’s.“Sweetheart, I only want to be with you. You’re not here anymore so I decided to go be with you. I can’t handle the pain of living without you.” Albert says, pleading to his girlfriend to take him with her.

Her image reappears where she stood before Race rudely interrupted. She was shaking her head. She steps closer to him and takes his hand and turns him to face away from her.“Now open your eyes baby. There’s a world down there where people love you. I never saw it. In time, I know you’ll see it. I’ll love you forever, Albert. Now wake up.” She says, her voice fading as she repeats her command for him to wake up.

He begins to feel things again.

He feels his hand being squeezed and tears drip onto his left hand.

He hears hitched breathing and Race’s broken voice asking him to come back to them. Albert tries to speak but nothing comes. He tries to squeeze Race’s hand back. That must have worked, considering he heard Race’s voice utter “holy shit”. He feels another hand grab his right hand before hearing Jojo ask him to squeeze his hand, which he does.

As quickly as Jojo took his hand, he had let go, Albert assumed he went to get a doctor, considering he heard him yelling for one. It was a blur of events but Albert eventually opened his eyes. He quickly shuts them because of how bright it was in the room he was in. He slowly opens them again, to find that the light had been turned off and to see that Race, Jojo and Mush were all by his side, all with tears in their eyes.

“Hey assholes, miss me?” Albert tries to say, but it comes out more like a mutter. Race breaks away from the group and engulfs him in a hug, scolding him for ‘scaring the shit outta him’ and saying that he’ll ‘kill him if he tries this shit again’. The rest of the boys present begin to join in the hug.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this, fellas. I’m sorry it took this for me to realize that you guys really love me. I love you idiots. You’se my family, I can’t desert my family.” Albert says, finally finding strength in his arms to hug them back.

In the back of his mind, he knew this was where he had to be right now. As usual, his girl was right.

#tw: death; self harm; suicide #please give me some feedback #i hope this didnt suck

2 notes · View notes